


In My Mind

by KagamiStan



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, Slow Burn, i guess?, they're actually less useless than I thought they'd be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24711730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KagamiStan/pseuds/KagamiStan
Summary: The Fifth Avatar is the Avatar in the Cycle after Air and before Water.This is the Avatar born not to a Nation, but to a group.The group of all those who do not bend the elements.Asami is the Avatar after Aang, and her Avatar journey takes her to the South Pole, where her new training partner finds her annoying, at first.
Relationships: Korra & Asami Sato, Korra/Asami Sato
Comments: 20
Kudos: 48





	1. Welcome to the Southern Water Tribe

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I don't make any promises about ever finishing this, but at least I already have the first six chapters written (which is almost the entirety of Book One), though they need some editing. I had to write some of this on my phone, so let me know if there's any dumb autocorrect typos out there. 
> 
> The main premise of this fic is "what if Asami was the Avatar instead of Korra?" but with the Avatar's powers adapted to fit Asami more. The idea is for Book 2 to be the point where this catches up with the events of Season 1 of the show, so don't expect most characters to show up until then (no Mako and Bolin for a while)
> 
> I might shift POVs eventually, but for now the plan is for Korra to be the only one.

**_The Fifth Avatar is the Avatar in the Cycle after Air and before Water._ **

**_This is the Avatar born not to a Nation, but to a group._ **

**_The group of all those who do not bend the elements._ **

**Book One:**

**Water**

**Chapter One:**

####  **Welcome to the Southern Water Tribe**

We wait for you outside. The sky is clear and the sun is high in the sky this time of the year, but this is the South Pole, cold is always a given. It's not usually a problem, except we're in our formal clothing, meant to be worn indoors. Yet we’re waiting in an open space, exposed to the elements. And you're running late. I haven't met you yet, and already you annoy me.

There's five of us, spread out in a line before a courtyard covered in snow. Behind us is the chieftain's abode, warmth, and food, and shelter from the biting wind await, but we remain still, waiting for you.

I yawn, stretching. My mother elbows my ribs.

"Korra." She hisses sternly.

"What? Does the Avatar have super hearing or something? Is she gonna chibend my boredom away?"

My mother scoffs, clearly holding back a smile. Next to her, my father chuckles, and I smirk.

"They're here." Katara says, next to my father. The old woman hasn't even moved, her eyes staring into the horizon.

"Where? I don't-" Her daughter Kya begins next to her. She's interrupted as the dragon, yes, the _dragon_ , sweeps in from seemingly nowhere, its arrival stirring up a gust of wind that showers us with powdery snow.

By the time I've wiped the snow away, two people have dismounted the dragon. One of them, an old man in regal clothes with a burn scar on his face, turns to the dragon, whispering to it. The dragon lets out a huff and flies away, as swift as it arrived, nothing more than a red streak.

I hold on a chuckle as its departure covers your back in even more snow. Thankfully your oversized backpack (also a reason to hold back the chuckle, as it looks over you) takes most of the hit.

You do not look like an Avatar. Not like I imagine avatars to be, anyway. You don't look like a warrior. You are not much older than me (I know your exact age. Everyone does). Your clothes are practical, discreet. Not aristocratic, not martial. Their red-black pattern clashes with the blue of the sky and the white of the snow, you stand out like a bloodstain. I somehow manage to feel both over and underdressed. Your posture is confident, yet not aggressive. You flick your hair over your shoulder, a casual gesture done so gracefully that it almost appears practiced.

You wear make-up. Not war paint as warriors do here or on Kyoshi. You are not a soldier. 

Your lips are red. Your eyes are green. My own eyes linger on them.

"Avatar Asami." My father greets you with a bow. "We are honored to be in your presence."

"You hear that, Zuko? Honor. That's your thing, isn't it?" You say, a smirk in those lips.

Katara actually snorts. Without thinking, I bend over to look at her. She's covering her mouth, holding back laughter. My mother elbows me again, and I stand straight up.

"I knew letting you go to that play was a bad idea." The old man, former Fire Lord Zuko, with whom you apparently are on a first-name basis, says as he approaches behind you, his annoyance tinged with amusement. "Will you let it go already?"

You roll your eyes.

"The honor is all mine, Chief Tonraq." You say. "I'm looking forward to my stay here. Hopefully the weather will be more merciful in the future."

I snort. My mother elbows me a third time. Three is bad, I know I'll hear about it later. Your eyes dart to me for a second, and we make eye contact. I gulp. Your eyes return to my father, and you smile.

My father bows to you again, and then turns to his right.

"This is-" he begins, but you interrupt.

"Katara." You said immediately, with such familiarity that my mouth hangs open for a second. 

"It is good to finally meet you, Asami." Katara says, with the same familiarity. No titles, no formalities. Yet there is also a sad edge to her voice, and you notice this, because your smile falters. Your hand goes to the back of your head, awkwardly, finally a crack in the perfect picture.

"I'm afraid I don't know what to say. I've, ah, heard so much about you." Your eyes turn serious, full of meaning. "From many people." 

The significance of the conversation is lost of me (it will hit me eventually, I'm not the sharpest). Katara turns to her right and gestures to Kya.

"My daughter Kya." She says.

"Of course." You say. "I've heard about you too."

"Only bad things, I hope." Kya quips. Katara elbows her. "Ow, sorry."

You chuckle, and the picture the three of you create, like an old friend returning home, finally makes me understand. Avatar Aang was Katara's husband. Kya's father. You are his reincarnation. This must be _so_ weird, for all of you.

After a few words, which I miss as I'm processing this new information, you turn away from them and towards us. My father introduces my mother, and then me.

"My daughter, Korra." He says.

I bow to you. I might have practiced on the mirror this morning. My mother doesn't elbow me, so it's probably not terrible.

"It is an honor, Avatar." I say. After a few seconds of bowing with my eyes closed, I look up to find you examining me, those green eyes digging deep.

"I understand we'll be learning together?" You say, your tone clearly artificially neutral. You either dread or anticipate the prospect. Which is it, I cannot tell. I hesitate.

"After a fashion." I say. "I'm afraid Sifu Katara has not yet shared her plans with me." I try not to let my annoyance show. I did try to get Kya to talk, but for once she kept her mouth shut. I know better than to even try with Katara. 

I look at them. They're talking with the Fire Lord, like the old friends they are. They all laugh. Your eyes follow mine, then return to me.

"In any case." You say. "I look forward to our time together."

"I as well." I say, the formality tasting foreign in my mouth. You raise an eyebrow, and I can't help but think I've disappointed you somehow. I've only just met you, and already you annoy me.

"Will you join us for tea, Lord Zuko?" My father asks as the old man greets him and my mother.

"I would love too, though I'm afraid I can't stay long."

"Always have time for tea, eh Zuko?" Katara says, sounding younger than I've ever heard her. The old man smiles, a strangely shy smile for such a serious face.

You chuckle, placing your hand on his shoulder.

"Your tea better be decent, chief. The Fire Lord here has a very... particular palate when it comes to it." You say.

"Insufferable palate, is more like it." Katara says, and you both laugh mercilessly at the man, who looks as if he's about to explode yet makes no comment. Kya gently pats his other shoulder.

"It's so good to see you again, uncle Zuzu." She says.

"Do not-" the old man begins loudly, before taking a deep breath (and I swear those are wisps of flame emanating from his nose as he exhales). "Do not call me that, please." He says gently. "Now, I believe you said something about tea?"

As we head in, we fall into lines of two, so as to make it through the doors. The two of us are last.

"Of your father is the chief, does that make you a princess?" You ask curiously. I bite my tongue.

"Not how chiefdom works." I mutter, holding back as much annoyance as I can. I'm not very successful.

"Oh. Sorry." You say awkwardly, and I can't help but relish in the second crack in your perfection. "So, what's so funny?" 

"Excuse me?" I honestly have no idea what you're talking about. The rest are already seated by now, leaving two seats between Lord Zuko and my mother for us.

You take off your backpack and place it on the floor, between the Fire Lord and an empty seat. You're careful about it, too careful. The Fire Lord observes you, and I swear he seems nervous, as if the backpack were made of glass.

You seat next the Fire Lord, and I sit next to you. My mother pours the tea, and as we pass it on you lean into me.

"I complained about the weather." You whisper. "You found it funny."

_Oh._

I glance at my mother. She doesn't seem to have noticed. She hands me another cup, which I pass to you.

"Today's actually a nice day." I explain as quietly as possible as our fingers graze. You take the cup and keep it.

"Oh." You say, a bit more loudly than you probably intended. I can tell you're clearly not happy. 

I take my cup from my mother, who gives me a look, though she mostly seems curious. I shrug.

We drink our tea in silence for a moment, and I notice all eyes eventually find their way to the Fire Lord, whose own eyes are closed as he enjoys his drink.

Eventually, he lets out a content hum and opens his eyes, noticing everyone staring. He sighs.

"It's good tea." He says, resigned to his role. Kya makes a toasting gesture and drinks.

Katara and the Fire Lord begin to talk, asking about names I've never heard before, sharing inside jokes. I get the feeling you enjoy not being the center of attention. I watch you drink your tea peacefully, savoring the quiet moment to yourself (your lipstick stains the cup). It's the first time I don't feel annoyed by you. You look tired. 

Everyone else seems to pick up on this, because they don't bother you. I'm not surprised they've noticed, since I'm not exactly perceptive.

"It's strange." You say eventually seemingly to no one in particular, yet everyone's attention immediately focuses on you. "I spent the last few months barefoot learning to listen to the earth, and immediately afterwards I come here where there's no earth to listen, and I need layer upon layer of clothing if I want to keep my toes."

*What do feet have to do with listening?' I ask immediately, curious. I brace myself for an elbow that never comes. My mother is probably curious too.

"Seismic sense." Katara explains, clearly picking up on some queue from you that it's okay for her to explain. "An advanced earthbending technique. It allows them to sense the vibrations objects create on the ground, and use that as sight."

I remember the stories of Avatar Aang's team, of the blind earthbender Toph.

"But I thought, ah, that is-" I stumble on my words. Fifth Avatars are weird, and that's just about everything anyone knows about them. Well, that and one more thing.

"That I couldn't bend?" You say. "True, though not completely. There's some things I _can_ do. I can't bend the elements, but I can feel them like benders would. So I can use that particular earthbending technique."

"Huh. What else can you do?" I ask. 

"Korra." My mother warns.

"It's okay." You chuckle. "I have the Avatar's spiritual connection to the Spirit World and my past lives. I can bend chi, which allows me to neutralise other people's bending, I can bend the energy in my own body to project and redirect lightning, even if I can't firebend. And of course I'm here among other things to learn how to heal through water by channeling spiritual energy through it, even if I can't waterbend either."

"You've been hit by lightning?" I ask. It annoys me that I can't help but blurt things out around you.

"Korra." That's two. 

You look at me with a furrowed brow.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, how do you know you can redirect it if you haven't been hit by it?"

Kya laughs.

"Fire Lord, have you been chucking lightning at the Avatar?" She asks. 

"Believe me, I would have if I could." Lord Zuko says. "No, obviously I told her that it was very dangerous and that she had to hope she would never have to use the technique."

Katara doesn’t say anything, but she seems to find this funny.

"So of course I immediately proceeded to find a way to shock myself." You explain with a smile. We all stare. "What? It was not with actual lightning, it was with a machine! The voltage was safe, I had everything under control!"

"Vol...tage?" I say slowly. I'm not the only one. My dad and I share a look, wondering what we've gotten ourselves into. Lord Zuko coughs.

"I'm afraid the Avatar is also a bit of an engineer this time around." He says with some distaste. "No time for the spiritual with her, too lost in the material world of machines."

Katara chuckles.

"Oh, my son will have a field day with that, I'm sure."

"Okay, no, wait, you _electrocuted_ yourself. Can we go back to how she electrocuted herself?" I say, unable to hold back the awe from my voice. It's the first time I actually like you.

"Korra, I'm not sure-" my father begins.

"It was perfectly safe-" you say at the same time, a faint blush on your cheeks.

"I'm sure it was." My mother says diplomatically, a hand grabbing my arm. She forces me to sit back down and only then I noticed I'd half-left my chair to lean into the table, looking at you. "And I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to learn more about the Avatar's abilities, isn't that right, Katara?"

Katara grins that mischievous grin of hers that makes me shiver. She has _plans_. I know she does. I just don't know what they are.

"That's right." She says. "Korra has shown tremendous progress, I'm running out of things to teach her. While Kya will be focusing on teaching the Avatar about healing, I thought we could have some fun by pitting Korra and the Avatar against each other."

"Excuse-"

"I'm not sure-"

We both stop mid-sentence. Clearly neither of us wants this, yet neither of us likes that the _other one_ has a problem with it.

"Afraid I'll wipe the floor with you, princess?" My mouth spews before my brain can catch up. You smirk.

"Oh, there'll be wiping alright, technically-not-a-princess." You say.

"Oh, bring it on."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"I know it's fine, I just said so."

"I'm glad you know."

"I'm glad you're glad."

"Fine."

"Fine."

A small cough from my right snaps us out of it and oh, I will _never_ hear the end of this from my mother.

"It's settled then." Katara says, very obviously amused by our interaction. "Asami needs to learn to chibend waterbenders, Korra needs a new challenge. A match made by spirits, clearly."

Kya snorts.

"Clearly." She says. Katara elbows her. "Ow."

We look at each other, my own mortification reflected in your face. We drink our tea. Tomorrow, we fight our first fight. It will not be our last.

* * *

**  
**We say our goodbyes to Lord Zuko. Katara, Kya and you all hug him. Katara gets him to promise to visit more often. Kya demands he bring some Fire Nation spices when he does. You ask him to tell some people I don't know you already miss them.

Katara and Kya leave as well, hugging you and repeating how glad they are to have met you. Katara takes you aside for a moment and says something. Your eyes dart to me as she speaks, then back to her.

After they're gone, I'm tasked with showing you to your room. Our place is large for Southern Water Tribe standards, but from what I understand it should be nothing new to you. I make a few comments about the rooms we pass by, and you nod. You seem to actually be paying attention.

"Ice really is a fascinating material.' You say, your fingers resting on the wall for a moment. "Of course, it's only really viable in the poles, and it requires waterbenders to be shaped into something as impressive as this, but still... I'm looking forward to learning more about it."

"I'm uh, not sure construction will be included in your lessons." 

You laugh, short but clear.

"Oh, it won't be." You say, sending me a quick wink. "But that's never stopped me before."

"Your room." I say, before noticing how absolutely awkward I sound. I'm not usually like this. It annoys me. I cough. "I mean, this is your room." I say gesturing to the door.

As you walk through the door, I pay attention to your backpack for the first time since you arrived. The snow the dragon sprayed over it has already melted. It is brown, and has various patches down into it. I recognize the symbols of the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom, though there's a few more I don't recognize. 

You take it off, gently, just as you did when we sat for tea, and I wonder if there's something fragile in there. We'd been told we'd have to provide you with clothes and other items, as part of your training included letting go of earthly possessions. I suspect it's not a part of your training you excel at.

You place it on your bed, and wander around the room, taking stock. My eyes go back to the backpack.

"The sages don't approve." You say, and my eyes fly back to you, as if I'd been caught doing something wrong. "But I have a few interests outside my role as the avatar. Science. Engineering. That sort of thing."

"Uh…" I say, unsure what to do with the information.

"That's what's in the backpack. Mostly. Books. A few tools. Blueprints. I'm sure you'd find it all very boring."

I suspect you're calling me dumb, which is even more annoying since you apparently just read my mind. I take a deep breath, holding back my thoughts from my mouth. It's not something I'm used to, but I know I'm in enough trouble with my mother already.

"I mean, unless you wouldn't?" You ask, and I can't tell if it's a peace offering or if you just want me to dig a hole for myself. I scoff.

"Nah, I would." I say. "Get some rest, avatar. You'll need it tomorrow."

I turn around and leave, not giving you a chance to reply. I'm liking Katara's idea more and more by the minute.


	2. The Spark of Competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Korra and Asami have their first fight against each other.

**Book One:**

**Water**

**Chapter Two:**

####  **The Spark of Competition**

Breakfast is awkward at first. Silent. We're not used to having people over for breakfast. Dinner had been fine, with you and my father exchanging tales of people you have in common (the time my father took some diplomat ice fishing and she fell into the water, the time the son some tribe representative you met in the Fire Nation came on to you and the ran for the hills when he learned you were the Avatar. I can't bring myself to blame him for either, to be honest). You asked about my father's job, about the Tribe's political and social organisation. You seemed absolutely genuine. Eager, even.

But now, breakfast is awkward. You've clearly ran out of icebreakers, and I'm not about to bring up the only one I have.

"So," my mother begins, looking from one of us to the other. "Are you two looking forward to training together?"

Yep, there it is, the one thing I was avoiding talking about. We share a look, one of mutual understanding.

"Yes. Yes we are." We say in unison, our tones flat, our hearts clearly not in our words. My mother raises an eyebrow.

"That's...good." she ventures. "You know, Asami," your repeated pleas not to be called 'Avatar' seem to have finally taken hold. "from what I understand, Katara is quite the teacher."

"Ruthless." My father says.

"Brutal." I agree. You look from him to me, clearly displeased with this information.

"But she's...so nice." You say. I snort.

"Yeah, now. Wait until she has you in her claws. When I first started with her I'd wake up every morning with every bone in my body on fire."

"Korra. Don't exaggerate." My mother scolds me.

"No, no, she's right." My father says, and he shivers. "That woman." Then he seems to remember you're there and startles. "But, uh, that's for waterbending. Your lessons will be different, I'm sure."

"Right." You say. You don't seem convinced.

* * *

Your lessons are not that much different.

Katara arrives early, and the three of us head for the arena we use for training.

The arena is basically a walled pit carved into the ground, adjacent to our home. It has been used for public events, including ceremonial fights, but its main purpose had been training of all waterbenders before a larger arena was built. Even then, this one had remained in public use, until now. This is _our_ arena now. Most doors leading outside are locked, the only way in or out an underground passage connecting it to the lower levels of our home.

The arena is almost entirely out of ice, though there are two concentric circles of stone pillars, supporting lit braziers. There are also two rings carved into the ice and filled with rushing water. They’re not very deep or wide, they are not meant as obstacles but as a tool for waterbenders, especially those who’re not yet too adept at changing the state of the water.

Apparently, the problem with bending your opponent's chi is that you need perfect understanding of how that chi flows with their movements, which means you essentially need to learn to bend every element without ever actually bending. You need to learn not just all the moves, but the way your body and spirit react to them, as well.

Katara starts you with the basics. Real basics, things most waterbenders learn when they're kids, often by themselves. You follow her instructions dutifully, though the lack of water accompanying your movements makes it look ridiculous.

Then Katara leaves you to it, and begins my training.

She's pushing me more than usual, I can tell. She even throws the occasional surprise ice spike at me, trying to throw me off balance. She has no notes, no corrections. It's rare, but it's not the first time.

Splitting her time between the two of us means from time to time one of us has to be left practicing alone, which I find ridiculous. I suggest we get more people in here, but Katara doesn't like the idea.

Eventually, after hours of arduous training for both of us, Katara decides it's time for her little experiment. 

She calls us both over.

"Asami, Korra is not a master, but she might as well be one." She explains, and I swell with pride at the compliment. "She's not someone you'll be able to chibend yet. But it will not do to let your other skills rust, will it?" I feel my eyes widen. It occurs to me, not for the first time, that I have no idea what I'm up against. "Korra, Asami might not be able to bend, but this doesn't mean she's not extremely dangerous. You'd be a fool to underestimate her. For now, your reach is your greatest advantage, but lean too much on it at your own risk, as that will not be the case once she learns to bend your own chi against you. Asami, close quarters fighting will be your advantage for obvious reasons, but do not think Korra is only a waterbender. She's a warrior."

I look into your eyes and I realize I'm actually genuinely scared to fight you. It had not seemed real until now. 

Katara steps away and watches us examine each other.

"Well?" She asks, impatience in her voice. "What are you waiting for?"

We bow to each other, and enter our combat stances.

I have some knowledge of combat styles outside our Tribe, if only theoretical, but yours is not any I recognize.

We stay still for a few moments, and then I decide to strike. Like Karara said, I take advantage of my reach, I bend the ice under your feet, hoping to end things quickly.

It doesn't work. You move fast, very fast, dodging everything I throw at you as you dart towards me. I'm not used to backing away, to being on the defensive. My physical strength means that when I'm fighting a bender as powerful as me or more, it's usually better for me to make our bodies count as much as possible. Now I find myself avoiding you, a smaller opponent who can't even bend, and I'm not even sure why.

You make contact. Two fingers, strong against my left arm. I blast water against you with my other arm, shoving you across the arena. It's a good hit, and I'm pleased, but then I notice the arm you hit has gone numb.

You roll with your hit, landing on one knee, just short of one of the pillars, your hand going to your ribs, where you took most of the hit. You smile, like you've already won. I hate it.

I try to bend a barrage of ice at you, but my left arm can't bend at all. Chi blocking, I realize. I don't know much about it, just that it involves pressure points and that it neutralises bending. It stands to reason you'd learn it, it probably shares a lot in common with the theory behind chibending. And assuming other Fifth Avatars have learned it as well, you're probably unnaturally good at it.

My barrage might not be as good as intended, but it still manages to wipe the smile off your face.

I keep going, refusing to give you a moment to think, or a path to approach me. I know the risks now. 

This goes on for a while. You're agile, and far more resilient than you have any right being, but you're starting to get tired, I can tell, and I decide attrition is my best chance, if not my only one. But my left arm remains useless the whole time, and that means my right arm eventually gets tired. I don't mean to, but I give you a moment to catch your breath.

You do far more than that.

Your stance becomes firm, firmer than it's been during the entire fight, almost like an earthbender. Your hands move in a circular motion. 

And then lightning emerges from your fingertips. I can't help it, I flinch. This is lightning, can't outrun it, can't take it. My arm thinks on its own, raising a barrier to protect me, but I doubt it will be fast enough.

There's a booming sound behind me as the lightning strikes the wall. You missed. I sigh in relief, only to be covered by your shadow as you leap over my barrier. Your fingers strike a spot on my right shoulder. You land behind me, and after a quick succession of hits, my body surrenders. I fall to the ground, numb.

"Asami!" Katara scolds you as you sit me up, probably trying to spare my dignity and doing the opposite instead. "Lightning is _not_ appropriate in training. I would have thought Zuko taught you this. I will have none of this, understood?"

You let go of me, and I fall to the ground again.

"Apologies, Sifu Katara." You say. From my place in the ground I can only see your feet, but I get the feeling you're bowing. "But I didn't even aim it at her, it was meant as a distraction."

Of course it was. If I could bend right now, I would probably make the ice under my feet swallow me. My face burns at the humiliation, having fallen for that trick.

"It was still irresponsible of you." Katara says sternly. "I'm serious, no lightning again." She huffs. "If it were up to me, you wouldn't even have learned that technique."

As she speaks, Katara kneels by me and begins to heal me with her water. Slowly, I regain the feeling in my limbs.

"Understood, Sifu Katara." You say, though even I can tell you're holding back.

"Your bending might take a while to return." Katara explains to me softly, as I manage to sit up. "Don't be alarmed by it." 

I can't help but try and indeed, I can't manage even a little movement of ice or water. It scares me.

"A little warning would have been nice." I say to Katara.

"Fighting the unexpected is always a risk. It was a lesson worth learning." She replies. "Besides, if you'd bothered to learn more about your opponent beforehand, you would have known she was a skilled chi blocker."

"I would have told you." You say. "It's not really a secret."

I glare at you. You're not exactly my favourite person right now.

"That was a cheap trick, Avatar." I say. "But I don't care what Katara says. Try it again if you must, it won't work twice."

"Oh, I'm sure it won't." You say with a smirk. "Which is why I had to make the most of it. Don't worry, I won't use lightning on you again." You look at Katara for a moment. "Because it's wrong." You say, overly solemn. I can't help but grin as Katara rolls her eyes.

"Children." She says, forcing me to stand up. I wobble a bit, and stumble. You catch me before I can fall.

"Better get used to it." You say, teasing as you help me walk, following Katara towards the doors of the arena. "There's plenty of chi blocking in your future."

"And there's a fist to your face in yours if you keep it up." I snap, and even I'm surprised at how little bite my threat holds. It's almost banter. "I'll get you next time."

"Probably." You admit, clearly not too worried. "You obviously didn't take long to figure out how to handle me, and I still have no idea how to chibend waterbenders."

"And you've used your trick up your sleeve." I point out. I glance at you and notice your smirk.

"I've used _a_ trick up my sleeve." You correct. 

"You're bluffing." I say, but I have no idea if you are.

"I suppose you'll find out." You say.

It's then that I notice that you're still helping me walk. I push myself away, a little more forcefully than I mean to, and smile as I realize I can indeed walk by myself. You seem impressed.

"Your healing is very impressive, Sifu Katara." You say. "I've never seen anyone recover so quickly from chi blocking."

"Oh, Korra did most of the work, I just helped her along." Katara says and that's yet another compliment from her today. "There's no rushing the bending though, that has to return on its own."

We say our goodbyes as you and Katara head to the healing grotto where you are to learn healing from Kya.

After you leave, I go looking for my mother to let her know I'm leaving too. I need some time to clear my head after that beatdown.

"Just a moment." My mother says unexpectedly, gesturing for me to sit by her side. "I want to talk to you."

I sit, silent. I don't know what this is about, but I know it has to be about you. Everything has been about you since before you even arrived.

"How was your training with the- with Asami?"

"Fine." I mutter. "She beat me, if that's what you're asking."

"It's not." My mother says, obviously uninterested. "How are you two getting along? Are you becoming friends?"

"I mean, do we _have_ to?" I ask immediately, and I can tell it is _not_ the reply she wants. She sighs.

"Korra. Training with the Avatar is not just an honor. It's an opportunity. You're the chieftain's daughter. Even if you weren't training with her, you'd be expected to spend time together. Asami is being introduced to important political players and their heirs all over the world to help her fulfill her role. Knowing her, in turn, is a benefit for them. For _you_."

"That's not how chiefdom works." I mutter. She knows this, of course. She rolls her eyes.

"It still matters, like it or not. Having her as a friend could open doors for you. More importantly, it could be key in keeping balance between the nations if anything were to happen to your-"

"Mom!"

" _If anything were to happen to your father_ ." She repeats, insistent. "If she needed to mediate between us and another nation, she'd look to you. It would be wise of you to at least _try_."

"I'm not a politician. I don't _want_ to be a politician!"

"This isn't about you!" My mother says, losing her temper for a moment before regaining her composure. "Korra, it's about our people."

I sigh. I know she's right, but I don't like it. I don't like that it has to be me. It's not even that I don't _want_ to befriend you. Jury is still out on that one because, annoying as you can be, you are intriguing, and you have already managed a few smiles out of me. I just don't like not having a real choice.

"Fine." I say, my tone clearly stating the opposite. "I'm leaving now."

She doesn't stop me.

A sharp whistle is all it takes for Naga to come find me. The huge polar bear-dog, my best friend, barrels into me and licks my face. You’ve kept me away from her for too long. You don’t even know this, but it still annoys me.

After she’s done slobbering all over me, Naga allows me to mount her, and we ride away from home, away from the tribe, away from you.

We don’t go anywhere in particular. I don’t really have a secret spot. I just want to be away. After we find a resting place, by some cliffs overlooking the ocean, we stop to rest. I test my bending, and although it’s back, I can feel it’s not at its best. I wonder if after enough fights I’ll develop a tolerance to chi blocking. I wonder if that’s even possible.

Naga is a good listener. She doesn’t really have a choice. I ramble to her, about my mother, about Katara. Mostly about you. About how annoying it is, having to deal with all of this, having to figure you out, having to _befriend_ you. About how infuriatingly pretty you are, how deceptively fragile you appear, how absolutely ruthless you are on the battlefield.

It doesn’t take long for you to become the sole object of my ramble. Naga doesn’t complain. I explain how I don’t necessarily _dislike_ you. I certainly don’t hate you. Most of the time. I just dislike having you around. Messing with my life. With my training. With my family. I dislike that this further entrenches me in my role as the chieftain’s daughter. A role I don’t particularly adore. A role I want to leave behind. Because I want to be respected in my own right. Because I’m not sure I want to live in the Tribe forever. Because the world is very big, and being chained to a single place makes me feel like I can’t breathe. 

A fleeting thought passes through my mind. In my ramble, it escapes through my lips.

“Maybe I could leave with her.” I say, and then blink at the stupidity of what I’ve just said. As if anyone would agree to that. Your next stop is learning from airbenders, I know. What possible excuse could I have to join you? And what possible reason could either of us have to agree to be around each other for even _more_ months?

The thoughts interrupt my ramble. Naga yawns. I notice how late it’s getting. It’s time to go home.

* * *

You’re not home when I get there. In fact, you arrive barely in time for dinner.

You look exhausted. Even your hair looks rough, and it was fine after our fight (which I find annoying). You slump in your chair, your usual grace nowhere to be seen. My parents share a look.

“How was healing practice?” My father ventures after a few seconds of silence. You actually groan. Audibly. _Loudly_. My parents share another look. I chuckle, and you glare at me, piercing green eyes forcing me quiet in an instant.

“It was frustrating.” You say eventually, your voice letting us know you’re actually holding back with your choice of word. “I did not expect to get it right away, but I basically spent hours with my hands in freezing water doing nothing. The, ah, spiritual side of the Avatar is not exactly my strong suit. And apparently healing requires quite a bit of that.”

“I see.” My father says hesitantly, before turning to me. “And what about training? How was your first day?”

You look at me, and are you _afraid_? Is that actual fear in the almighty Avatar’s eyes? 

“Oh, you know,” I say casually, stretching my arms. “No big deal, practiced some maneuvers, then the two of us sparred, she shot lightning at me.”

My mother actually chokes on her food.

“Not at you!” You sputter, and the panic in your voice is delicious. “Not at her! It was a distraction!”

“Oh, my life flashing before my eyes was distracting alright.” 

“You’re being dramatic!”

“It was harrowing. Traumatizing, even.”

“Oh, for the-”

My father coughs. We both fall silent.

“What did Katara have to say about this?” He asks calmly.

“Oh yeah, what _did_ she have to say about it, Avatar?”

You mumble something under your breath.

“I’m sorry, what was that? A little louder, please.” I ask, though I know I’m pushing it with my parents.

“I said, she forbade me from ever doing it again.” You say, and the heat on your face is probably as much anger as it is embarrassment. You take a moment to calm down and look at my parents, serious. “And I won’t. I apologize for doing it, but you have to believe me, your daughter was never in any real danger. I didn’t even aim near her.”

“Very well.” My father after a moment, nodding. My mother takes a few seconds before nodding herself.

“What? That’s it?” I ask. “She endangered my life! Me, your one and only daughter!”

My mother scoffs.

“Korra, please. If there had been any real danger I think we would have heard about this sooner, if not from you then from Katara. The Avatar has apologized. Let’s move on.”

I grumble, but my heart isn’t really in it. I look at you, and notice you’re inspecting me. I can’t help but make a childish mocking face at you, which you counter by rolling your eyes and returning to your food.

We don’t talk for the rest of the dinner.


	3. Watching the Tides Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Korra gets her rematch. Our girls begin to open up to each other.

**Book One:**

**Water**

**Chapter Three:**

####  **Watching the Tides Turn**

I have breakfast alone. You’re still asleep.  _ My parents  _ are still asleep. That’s a first for me. I woke up early, energized. I spend some time with Naga, then I leave a note saying I’ll be waiting in the arena, and head there to train.

I go through movements, experiment a bit. Nothing too serious, I don’t want to tire myself, but the entire time I keep you in mind, the way you moved during our last battle. I don’t plan any specifics, I know better than to know what to expect from you. But I keep every single move I can remember from you in mind, and try to think of the best response.

Eventually, you and Katara join me. You look at me like you expect me to bite your head off, but I find I harbor no real resentment for you. Well, at least not for the defeat or the lightning. Fair’s fair. I still find you annoying.

I greet Katara with a bow, then flash you a smile as I greet you.

“Look who’s finally up.” I say, and admittedly I’m trying to make you notice that no, I don’t hate you. I’m being diplomatic, I think. Just like mom wanted. You seem to notice, because you smile too, and it seems genuine enough.

“What, couldn’t sleep waiting for your rematch?” You ask. “Besides,” you add, doing that hair flick of yours, your tone affectedly haughty, anticipating the joke “ I need my beauty sleep.”

I scoff.

“No you don't.”

There’s a moment of absolutely stunned silence as we both process what I’ve just said, and I wonder if murdering your own mouth is considered a crime because what the hell was that. You look like you’re about to say something when Katara claps to get our attention.

“If you’re done with the...greetings, ladies.” She says and why do I suspect she was going to say something else? “It’s time we begin. Asami, do your exercises like yesterday for a moment. I want to observe Korra.”

We begin, same as the day before, Katara switching between both of us. I have no idea if you’re making any progress, because I understand next to nothing of chibending. I know for a fact that I make no progress myself. In fact, I catch myself performing techniques I once thought impossible while my mind is occupied anticipating our next fight.

For the first time in my life, practice becomes nothing more than going through the motions. Katara notices. She bends the ice under me, unbalancing me, making me fall.

“Your mind is elsewhere.” She states bluntly. “Your moves are flawless, but distracted. You would never be able to keep this up outside of a controlled environment.”

“Flawless, huh?” I say from the ground. She rolls her eyes.

“That’s what you got from that?”

“I get it, I get it.” I say, standing up. “Can you blame me? I want my rematch.”

She huffs.

“Well, tough. You need to learn that it will never be as easy as it is in training. I thought we’d moved past this a long time ago.”

Oh, we had. Through brutal surprise attacks, through “field trips” into the wilds, through fights with other benders. Katara had very successfully taught me to keep my mind outside of itself, to keep me aware of my surroundings. But this is different, I think. This is you. Somehow I don’t think Katara will appreciate that answer. And I know for sure I don’t want to give it.

“We did, Sifu Katara.” I say, bowing respectfully. Honestly. I know when I’m wrong. Well, sometimes. “It won’t happen again.”

“See to it that it doesn’t.”

It’s harsher than she usually is. I think she’s disappointed. It stings. My mind urges me to glare at you, to blame this one you. To think of how much you annoy me. But that’s the problem to begin with, so instead I take a moment to center myself, and then resume my training.

It takes effort. Mental effort, which is far more scarce a resource for me than physical effort. But I manage it. I push you out of my head. I push  _ myself  _ out of my head. I leave our rematch behind, and focus entirely on the task at hand. Katara is pleased.

Of course, by the time I’ve forgotten all about our rematch, Katara announces it’s time for it.

We take our places. We adopt our stances.

You make a gesture with your hand,  _ come and get me _ . You smirk as you make it, that infuriating smirk. But I know better. Better than to get anywhere near those hands. Better than to let you get to me, physically or emotionally. I’m focused. I’m in control. I only now realize that by making me stop thinking about this fight, Katara might have actually helped me win it.

I start with a barrier of ice spikes, which I push towards you. You jump over it, just like your finishing move last time, but I expect this, and have an ice pillar heading your way. Somehow, you manage to push yourself off it, to use its strength in your favor. You land far away, unscathed, and charge.

You’re behind me, but I knew this was a possibility. My feet are ready. I bend, not just at you, but also to put distance between us. You keep up, as expected, dodging everything I throw, anticipating every move. 

Once again, our fight takes on a certain rhythm. You try to approach, I don’t let you. You’re fighting better than last time, more used to my moves. You’ve learned as much from me as I have from you. It makes things harder, but I’m still confident.

I have both arms this time. Less room for you to breathe, less room for you to make any real moves. Even if you were allowed to use your lightning, I doubt you’d find the time to do so without distracting yourself long enough to be taken out.

You rush straight at me, and I’m confused. Confused because it must be some trick, you are letting your guard down, bad. I meet your eyes, and I try to figure you out, to read your mind, but I’ve got nothing. I decide to take you at face value, and strike.

It works. Better than expected. You dodge, but poorly, and stumble. It’s all I need. A moment later, you’re practically encased in ice. I take a second to breathe, because I’m exhausted, and because for a moment there I was actually terrified about what you could have been planning, about what I could have been missing.

You let out a sigh.

“Rookie mistake.” You say bitterly, looking down, low enough that I doubt Katara, who is approaching us, could hear you. Then you look at me and smile. “Guess you were right. You got me this time.”

I bend the ice restraining you away. You stumble for a moment before catching yourself, then bow to me.

“Impressive moves, Korra.” Katara says as she reaches us. “I really am running out of things to teach you.” Then she turns to look at you, an eyebrow raised. She doesn’t say anything, but we know she expects something from you.

“I was outgunned.” You say with a shrug. “I knew I was practically defeated, so I went for an all-or-nothing move. Slim chance of success, yes, but if I’d waited any longer looking for an opening I would have lost anyway.”

Katara hums.

“Not a very conservative approach” She says.

"I rarely go for those.” You say, and though you try to sound nonchalant I can tell you expect to be reprimanded.

“Well, that’s  _ one  _ thing you two have in common.” Katara says as she gestures for us to leave the arena. Her tone is more teasing than scornful. We both instantly take a hand to the back of our necks, unsure what to do with that. We notice the matching gesture and end it instantly, making things even more awkward. “I’m not sure if it’s true you had no other way to win, but if you felt that way, I don’t think I can blame you for taking the shot.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I really had her there.” I say smugly, and you swat my arm, an unexpectedly friendly gesture. “What? I did!”

“Maybe, but you don’t have to be so smug about it.”

“Is it smugness if you’re right though?”

“You just wait until I figure out this whole water thing. I’m gonna wipe the floor with you.”

I swallow, because I can tell you’re confident in your words and I have trouble doubting them. 

“How, uh, long is it until you can actually chibend?” I ask, trying to sound casual about it. You shrug.

“Fire took me two weeks to be able to do some basic stuff. Earth I managed almost immediately, but I can already tell water is going to be more problematic.” You hesitate. “And I am  _ not  _ looking forward to air.” You add.

I chuckle.

“Yeah, I’d probably be a terrible airbender.” I say. “Katara’s son has visited with his family a few times. His oldest daughter tried to teach me to meditate, and I can tell you, I do  _ not  _ get it. At all.”

“It’s not for everyone.” Katara agrees, and I’d almost forgotten she was there with us. “Jinora means well, but I don’t think she realizes this.”

“You too, huh?” I ask, surprising myself at the casual tone with which I address our master. She looks at me curiously, but doesn’t seem to mind.

“She likes to teach. And I’m her grandmother, I  _ have  _ to indulge her. It’s my job.” She sighs. “I just wish Aang was here, he’d be great with her. With all of them.” 

There’s an awkward pause as Katara seems to realize she just wished you hadn’t been born.

“Sorry.” She says eventually. “Just an old woman lost in her thoughts. Don’t mind me.”

You smile kindly at her, seemingly unbothered.

“I understand.” You reassure her. Katara smiles, but when she turns away I notice your own smile falter for a moment. I can’t understand what you’re thinking, how strange this must be for you, so I don’t try to. I find myself placing a hand on your arm in sympathy. You startle at the gesture, but don’t seem to mind.

When we reach the doors, you say goodbye to Katara.

“You’re not going to train with Kya?” I ask as we watch Katara leave.

“Not today.” You explain and you feel relieved. “She’s actually quite busy. I might have to get someone else for extra lessons, since we didn’t foresee me being so, ah, bad at healing.”

I chuckle, and you give me a questioning look.

“Are you offering?” You ask.

“Wh-what?”

“Well, you seem amused by my lack of skill, which can only mean you’re a master at it.” You say, teasing.

“I’m uh,” I hesitate. “I wouldn’t say ‘master’.” I finish lamely.

“Huh.”

“Certainly not good enough to teach.” I admit. “And for what it’s worth, plenty of people don’t get anything on their first day. Or, uh, so I’m told.” I was definitely one of those people.

“Yeah, but how many of those were the Avatar?” You say, and I can’t help but feel there’s some bitterness there, not at me, but at yourself.

“Hey, you know even the Avatar doesn’t have to be amazing at everything immediately, right?” I say. Why I’m saying this, I have no idea. But I do mean it.

“I know.” You sigh. “At least, in theory. I don’t always feel that way.”

“Can’t be easy.” I admit.

“No, but it has its perks.” You say. You pause for a moment. “Come with me? I want to show you something.”

I hesitate. I can tell you feel exposed just asking. I honestly don’t have the heart to refuse, even if part of me still wants to resist any sort of friendship. A friendship I’m starting to fear might be unavoidable. I sigh. At least my mother will be happy.

“Lead the way.” I say.

You take me to your bedroom. It looks quite different from the last time I was there. It looks like you’ve emptied your backpack all over the place. I remember what you told me about its contents, and it seems to match what I’m seeing. I’m also convinced you’ve gotten someone to bring you more things, because there’s some sort of device you’ve clearly been working on, sitting on a small table in a corner, and that couldn’t have fit in the backpack.

“You’ve made yourself at home, huh?” I say.

“I’m a mess, I know.” You say, clearly not very bothered by it. “I swear I’m a very organized person in every other aspect, but the creative process is the creative process.” 

“And what exactly do you...create?” I ask, picking up a blueprint and trying to decipher it, though I can’t even tell if it’s right side up.

“Not much. I’m mostly trying to teach myself engineering, since I can’t really get teachers for that.” Your eyes dart for a moment to the corner of the room, to the device. “Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to show you. It’s this.” 

You gesture to the fireplace. It’s lit. Roaring. And there, engulfed in flames, is what is clearly a large egg.

“What, uh, whatcha cookin there?” I ask. You giggle.

“Not cooking. This particular animal needs a lot of heat to grow. They can go dormant if it gets too cold, but it delays the hatching. I actually made an electric blanket I could heat with my lightning, and Zuko helped too, of course, so hopefully the journey here didn’t slow it much.”

“She shot lightning at you too, huh buddy?” I say, crouching to take a better look. The egg is of a deep red color, with faint patterns in different shades, some so dark they are almost black. I look back at you, and you’re pursing your lips.

“That is  _ not  _ what I said.” You say. I shrug.

“I heard what I heard.” I say. You smile. “So, what’s in there?”

“Really? Can’t you guess?”

It takes me a moment to figure it out. When I do, I gasp.

“A dragon.” I say. “You have an actual dragon.”

“Like I said, being the Avatar has its perks. I was entrusted to care for this dragon, and the dragon in return will care for me. It’s supposed to grow quite fast once it hatches. I can’t wait to go flying on it.”

I absolutely fail to hide my envy.

“That is  _ so  _ cool. You have to let me fly on it sometime.”

“I, uh, I’m not sure it will be possible any time soon. They do take a while to hatch. And, you know, I will be leaving eventually.”

That’s the first time the prospect of you being gone doesn’t sit well with me.

“Well, you’ll have to come back then, let me go for a ride.” I insist, and I can tell this is some kind of plan you had, and that it’s working. I kick myself mentally for being so easily manipulated, but I have trouble caring.

“We’ll see.” You say. “Perhaps if you quit bugging me about the lightning incident.”

“I promise to think about thinking about it.” I say. We’re actually both smiling at each other now. “My turn.”

“What?”

“My turn to show you something. Well, someone. Come on.”

I’m not like you. I don’t give you time to consider it, time to hesitate. I suppose it’s rude, but I walk out of the room, as if convinced you will follow. You do, which is actually a relief.

Naga likes you, immediately. She slobbers all over you, much to your disgust and my amusement. Still, you take it well. Better than most. You want her to like you. Perhaps because you want  _ me  _ to like you, I tell myself, a dizzying thought, one I’m not sure what to do with.

Then we go for a ride.

Naga goes fast, faster than usual. I might have something to do with it. You hold on to me, your arms around my waist. They tighten from time to time, and I smile, enjoying having you out of your comfort zone. I know it’s not very nice, but making the Avatar nervous feels like an accomplishment.

Your breath in my ears in turn makes  _ me  _ nervous, but there’s no reason for you to know about that. You whisper, then yell when you realize I’m not answering, asking where we’re going, if this is allowed, if this is safe. I tell you to just hold on and enjoy the journey.

We start with a bit of a tour of the tribe. Naga almost barrels into a few guards, and I  _ know  _ I’ll be hearing about that from my father later, but once again, as it so often happens since you showed up, I have trouble caring. My mind is elsewhere.

I’m trying to impress you, I realize. I’m not sure why, perhaps because you’re the Avatar. Perhaps because we’re becoming friends and you just showed me a dragon. Perhaps just because I’m a showoff which, to be fair, I kind of am.

Eventually, Naga finds her way to the gates, and we leave the tribe behind. This time I do have a place in mind, the same cliffs I went to with Naga last time. The view there of the icebergs drifting into the sunset (well, as much of a sunset as we have here, the sun is just vaguely closer to the western horizon) was beautiful, and I want to share it.

“You know, I was expecting the south pole to be nothing but a flat wasteland of ice.” You say as we dismount. “I’m glad to be proven wrong.”

“Common misconception.” I say, which is true. “I can show you some of my favourite spots. It actually has quite the diverse geography. Well, not geo. Cryography?”

“Topography.” You say immediately.

“Uh, I live here, I’d know if ‘topo’ meant ice.”

“It doesn’t. It’s just a more general term. Ice, earth, doesn't matter.”

“Huh.” You really are a nerd.

“And I’d love to, by the way. See your favourite spots.” You actually seem nervous when you say it, and only then I realize that I’ve actually offered, not really thinking about it.

“Uh, sure. We’ll have plenty of time, right?”

“Right.” You say. You sit, facing the ocean, watching the ice sheets drift. I sit next to you. Naga collapses behind us, clearly glad to have some time to rest. I lean back and rest my head against her fur. You look at her, hesitant, and I roll my eyes and gesture for you to do the same. After a moment, you do. “Thank you for this. I know it can’t be easy, having me burst into your life like this.”

“It’s certainly an adjustment.” I say with a chuckle. “But I suppose it could be worse.”

“Oh wow. I feel much better now.” You say. I smack your arm.

“You’re alright, Avatar.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, not-a-princess.”

“Funny, for an electrocutioner.”

“Big word for a jock.”

“Tough talk for a nerd.”

“Oh, I can back it up.”

“I know you can.” I say, putting an end to the banter. I sigh. “To be honest, I was kind of dreading having you here. Mostly because I had no idea what to expect. And even then, you’re definitely not what I expected from the Avatar.”

“Of course not. I’m much prettier than Aang ever was.” 

I laugh. You’re right, of course, but I don’t have to tell you that.

“I suppose I was afraid you’d be more full of yourself. Like some of the children of diplomats we've hosted, or something.”

“Oh, I can be terrible, but not with avatar stuff. Engineering, that’s where I can get pompous. Feel free to smack me if I ever do in your presence.”

“Gladly.” I say, and you smack my arm, much like I did to you before.

“But Avatar stuff?” You continue. “It’s hard. It’s hard work, and I’m not very good at it. I feel like I have to claw my way out of every lesson, so while I’m proud of my accomplishments, I’m also very aware I’m not exactly a natural at this. So I think of it as a job, one I didn’t get to choose, and one I’m not very good at. That helps with the ego, I suppose.”

“You seem pretty natural in the arena.”

“That’s not avatar stuff, that’s fighting. Chi blocking, martial arts. Not how I would have chosen to spend my time, but it’s something I can learn through method, and practice. Muscle memory and theory, that’s all there is to it. Memorizing pressure points was a breeze. I don’t need to understand what chi is to block it. I just have to do it. But the spiritual stuff? It doesn’t make sense to me. Zuko says my head is too full of numbers for clarity, and he’s probably right.”

“Huh.” I say. “I suppose that makes some kind of sense. Well, we can be unenlightened together.”

“Feeling better about it already.”

We stay silent for a few moments. It’s a comfortable silence. Naga’s breathing seems to want to tempt me into falling asleep.

“You’re not what I expected either.” You say eventually.

“Expected an actual princess, did you?” I tease.

“Maybe. I certainly didn’t expect a buff warrior woman.”

I look anywhere but at you because my face feels like it’s on fire.

“Besides, when I first arrived, you were in that dress and you acted so, ah, differently? I admit I got the wrong first impression.”

“Blame my parents for that.” I say. You chuckle.

“Yeah, don’t get me wrong, that dress on you was not exactly easy to hate, but it obviously isn’t what you would have chosen.”

You really need to stop doing that.

“I like it, on occasions.” I admit. “But not for every day, and certainly not for waiting in the cold for some random lady that shows up late.”

“I’m the Avatar, I’m supposed to arrive in the nick of time.” You say haughtily.

“It wasn’t a hundred years but it sure felt like it.” I grumble. You smack me again, my hand this time. When your hand leaves it rests by mine, and although there is no contact, it’s so close that I can almost feel it. I look at the horizon.

“It’s freezing. Literally. All the time, freezing.” You say. “And the sun won’t set for weeks, and then it won’t rise until after I’m gone. And the food-”

“Watch it.” I warn.

“The food is acceptable.” You finish, though you’re clearly holding back. “But still, I think I’m gonna like it here.”

“Good.” I reply instantly, then think about it. “I mean, because you don’t really have much of a choice.”

“Right.”

Another silence. This time, it lingers. Minutes pass. Naga’s breathing slows down, deepens. She’s asleep. I rest my eyes.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep when I jolt awake, startled by contact. I look to my shoulder and see you resting there. I look to my hand and see yours touching against it.

I take a moment to enjoy it. The warmth. The contact. Then the rest of my mind wakes up, and I catch up with myself. With my thoughts. 

“Hey,” I say carefully, placing my hand on your shoulder as I distance myself from you. “Hey, Avatar, wake up.”

It takes you a moment, a moment during which your body seems insistent in falling against mine. Then your eyes flutter open and you back away, embarrassed.

“Sorry.” You mumble, your face almost red with embarrassment.

“Don’t worry about it.” I say lightly. “I’m pretty sure I fell asleep first.”

“I think you snore.” You tease, and I glare, warning you with my eyes. We both know you’re the one who leaned against the other. You seem to take the message, because you back off.

“Come on, we should get back.” I say, as I stand up and offer you my hand. I help you up, and there’s a pause before your hand leaves mine, a pause my mind doesn’t dare linger on.

I wake Naga. We head home. We don’t talk.

Dinner is weird. We actually get along, and my parents look from us to each other, absolutely baffled. My father talks about his day, and I make some joke about some asshole he met with, and you’ve never met him but you laugh anyway. You discuss international politics with my father and I actually kind of listen and even ask a genuine question, which makes my mother choke on her drink. We talk about our second sparring match, excited about it. We kind of gush about each other’s skills. Then of course the conversation turns to our  _ future  _ sparring, and the trash talk begins, but it’s friendly, and even my parents laugh (though mostly when you trash talk me). 

By the time the conversation dies, the food’s been long gone. You excuse yourself, saying you need rest if you’re going to beat me tomorrow, even though we both know it’s unlikely. My father excuses himself too, citing some early meeting. My mother tells him she’ll be right behind him, before giving me a look that tells me she wants to talk to me.

“Alright, what did I do now?” I ask the moment we’re left alone, resigned to whatever fate she has in stock for me.

“You actually listened to me for once, is what you did.” She says, surprising me with a smile. “I’m proud of you.”

“Uh...what?” I have no idea what she’s talking about.

“The Avatar. I’m glad you’re trying to be friends with her.”

“Oh, that.” I say dismissively. I’d all but forgotten about that conversation. “Eh, she’s alright, I guess.” 

My mother gives me a look, like she’s trying to figure out what I’m going for.

“She’s alright?” She says.

“Yeah. I mean, we had a rough start, but I guess after we beat the crap out of each other we finally clicked, you know?”

“You clicked.” My mother says flatly.

“I mean, don’t get too excited about it, we’re not exactly BFF. We just, you know, are stuck with each other and making the most of it. No reason to make each other miserable, right?”

“Right.”

“Are you just going to echo me for the rest of the conversation?”

My mother shakes her head, smiling, like she’s been waiting for this for a long time. Which is weird, because it’s hardly anything special.

“In any case, I’m glad I don’t have to worry about you two killing each other.” She says, before stifling a yawn. “Goodnight, Korra.” She says, and wow, she is  _ really  _ happy about the whole thing.

“‘Night mom.” I say. She walks away, and I stay alone with my thoughts for a while, confused at the fact that despite the fact that we are practically being forced into friendship, I don’t really care as much anymore.


	4. Birth

**Book One:**

**Water**

**Chapter Four:**

####  **Birth**

**  
  
**

I defeat you again the next day, in a very similar manner. You still can’t find an opening, and eventually you simply run out of energy to keep up. If there’s any progress with your chibending, I can’t tell. Katara does introduce some new exercises for you, but when she’s bending some simple moves for you to try and bend, there’s no effect (I’m supposed to be working on my own bending, not watching you, but neither of you notice me).

You spend the rest of the day with Kya, and like the first time, you return tired and frustrated. Cranky, even. We don’t talk much.

This goes on for days. Our mornings spent together, with me defeating you being the highlight of the day, and then our afternoons apart. 

The first time you get another free day from Kya, I take you to some of my favorite spots, as promised. By then I’ve been planning, without meaning to, the itinerary for the day in my mind, choosing places we can visit in one afternoon. I might be imagining things, but I think you like it, even if for the most part it’s just the two of us quietly taking in the landscape. Some have breathtaking views, they’re high peaks, clifftops, hills. Others are secluded or remote, the landscape almost barren, but they have a different appeal: the fauna.

If we were younger, we’d probably try penguin sledding, but I had to accept a few years ago that I’m no longer the size where the penguin won’t mind the extra weight. We still enjoy watching them fish and socialize, and some of them approach us happily (I show you how to lure them with fish. You seem apprehensive at first, but warm up to them).

As you try to get the otter-penguins to understand you don’t have any more fish on you (I might have forgotten to mention how tricky it can get when you get to that part), I stay by Naga’s side, watching you. Then something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye, and I make my way towards it.

The penguin-otter is lying on the ice, surrounded by others of its kind. I notice some of them have brought it food, and when I approach one of them gets especially protective, a strange attitude in them.

I crouch, both trying to get a better look, and trying to appear less threatening. 

“It’s okay.” I say, holding up my hands, though I doubt they understand the gesture. “Is your friend hurt?”

The rest of the penguins have backed away, but the protective one stands its ground. Its whiskers twitch, and I wonder if it's meant to be a snarl. 

I don’t want to scare them, but I feel bad just leaving the hurt penguin there, so I make a decision. Slowly, I bend a thin layer of the ice we’re standing on into liquid water, then make a small sphere with it.

“I’m going to help, see?” I say, and channel energy into it, making it glow. “I can heal your friend.”

The penguin still doesn’t seem to understand me, but I expected as much.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, right behind me, startling me. “Oh.” You say, once you notice the hurt penguin. “Are you…”

“That’s the idea. But I don’t want to get in trouble with this one. So I was thinking I’d…”

Instead of explaining, I decided to show both you and the penguin. I take my gloves off with my mouth and I submerge my hands in the water. It’s freezing, obviously, and I shiver. Then I take them off and show the penguin.

“See? It’s not dangerous.” I say, still feeling like I’m talking to a wall. Then, without any ideas left, I bend the water towards the hurt penguin. I can’t see what’s wrong with it, so I just start with its feet and begin to use the water to try and feel anything while healing. The protective penguin, meanwhile, rushes to its friend, making alarmed noises. When its friend reacts, the first movement besides heavy breathing it’s done since I noticed it, the penguin finally seems to relax somewhat. I decide to take the opportunity to approach, and hear you follow behind me.

“How bad is it?” You ask.

“Pretty bad.” I say grimly. Now that I’m closer, I can tell. “It survived some kind of attack, but the wound got infected. It’s under the feathers, see that spot there? That’s dried blood.”

“Can you…” You don’t finish the question.

“I told you, I’m not the best healer.” I say, but even as I talk, I focus my mind and my movements on the healing.

You enter my field of view, your ungloved hand resting for a brief moment on my shoulder, before reaching the penguins. The protective one is startled by you, but doesn’t seem to consider you a threat. You make the same placating gesture with your hands I made when I first approached, then kneel and slowly, very slowly, place your hands on the healing water.

I feel you. I feel your energy trying to flow, your attempt to manipulate the energy in the penguin’s body to help it heal itself. But it’s a crude attempt. You really  _ are  _ bad at this. 

“Try to feel what I’m doing.” I say. “You’re, ah, not really managing to connect with it.”

“That’s what Kya keeps telling me.” You mutter. “I don’t know what that means.”

“You’ve almost got it.” I reassure you. You probably won’t be much help either way, and you’re not doing any harm. “Hold on,” I say, as I get an idea.

I approach you, meaning to kneel next to you, but the protective penguin is there, its eyes currently fixed on the healing water, as if expecting anything to go wrong. I don’t dare move it away for fear of scaring it, so instead I crouch behind you and lean over you and stretch my arm next to yours, placing my other hand on your shoulder for support. Your breath hitches for a moment, probably surprised by the contact, but I focus on keeping the energy flowing.

Inside the water, my hand finds yours.

“Here, can you feel it?” I ask.

“Uh…” You say, before letting out a small cough. “What?”

“Are you okay? I’m trying to get you to feel what I’m doing so you can do the same. You must have done this with Kya.”

“Y-yeah. Not- not quite like this, though.” You stutter. I’m not sure what’s the problem, but I don’t have time for it.

“Listen, I have to focus on the penguin here. You’re probably not going to be able to heal by yourself, so instead just focus on what I’m doing and try to help me along. Okay?”

“Y-yeah, sure.” 

“Good.”

I don’t talk after that. I just focus on the healing. After a few minutes, I decide I’ve guided you long enough and I need to go back to focusing all my attention on the penguin, so I step back, standing and going back to using both my hands. You look over your shoulder, your eyes strange, your face flushed.

“Focus.” I say, and your eyes widen before turning back to the penguin.

We stay like that for a while.

“Okay,” I say eventually, and you yelp in surprise as I bend the water away and let it fall on the ice. “I think that’s all we can do. The wound should be clean and should stay that way, but its body will have to keep fighting for a while. We should have helped him along quite a bit, though.”

“ _ You  _ helped.” You say as you stand. I shake my head.

“You too. You helped me help.” To be honest, you barely did, but I do feel like you showed some progress throughout the whole thing and I want to make sure that’s what you take away from this. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, since I’m, you know,  _ me _ , but I feel like mostly your main issue is focus. You need to be able to push away everything else.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard.” You mutter, your hands fixed on your hands as you put your gloves back on. Your eyes dart to me for a moment, then return to the ground. “This wasn’t exactly a controlled environment free of distractions, though.”

“Real scenarios rarely are.” I say, and I feel like I’m quoting Katara. “Though to be honest the other otter-penguins weren’t as distracting as I feared. Oh and hey, I guess you did get your extra healing lesson from me after all, huh?”

You smile at that.

“And you say you’re not good enough to teach.”

“Yeah well, when the student is bad enough, there’s nowhere to go but up.” I tease. You gasp in mock outrage and walk past me, towards Naga, shoving me as you do so.

“Let’s go, you jerk. My hands are freezing.”

On the way back, your hands feel tighter around me. I ask you if I’m going too fast, or if there’s anything else wrong. You say you just don’t want to lose any fingers to the cold. I don’t bother pointing out that the whole point of insulation is not to let the heat escape, so with all the fur between us, there’s no way your hands are getting any of my heat.

* * *

It’s a while until you get another free day, and when you do I offer to give you a proper tour of the tribe, this time with Naga only as a companion instead of a mount. You agree.

It’s during this tour, as you examine some market stalls and ask questions to vendors, that you bring it up.

“So, there’s something I’ve asked your father a few times, and he seems evasive about it.” You say. “You don’t have to answer, but I’d like to at least understand what’s going on.” 

“Uh, go ahead, I guess.” I say, not really sure what it could be, and to be honest more focused on the food around us (and on keeping Naga from eating it all).

“Well, you know how you’re not a princess because that’s not how it works?” You say, teasingly.

“Yeah.” I say, already not enjoying this conversation.

“How  _ does  _ it work? Is it an election, like the Republic?”

“Uh, well, not exactly. Yeah, I get why my dad would be awkward about this. It’s not a secret, just, weird for him to talk about.”

“Why?”

“Well, see, he’s not really chief.”

“What.”

“Yeah, not officially anyway. The two tribes, the two poles, are united. There’s only one chief, and he lives aaaall the way up there.”

“So, what does that make your dad, then?”

“Well, having your leader on the other end of the world is  _ very  _ inconvenient. So to be honest we kind of, do our own thing over here. I mean, there’s no conflict or anything for the most part, but it would take too long for anything to get done. My dad kinda fills that role. The fact that he’s originally from the North helps the northerners not be too mad about it, heh.”

“But, what is he? His title?”

“Well, everyone calls him chief, or chieftain, but it’s not official. Officially he’s just a high ranking warrior, I suppose.”

“But he has a palace.”

“I mean, it’s barely a palace. We don't call it a palace. Really, what happened was that people were coming over all the time and it became a sort of meeting house for everyone, so we expanded, and people chipped in. It’s the administrative center of the South, I guess? And a place to house high-profile visitors? And his residence?”

“That’s what a palace is.”

“Yeah. I guess.” I sigh. “But what I mean is, it’s more like it’s everyone’s, and we just live in it. Most of the rooms are for public use, the wing that used to be our house is the only part that’s off limits. The only reason we have the arena is that it was built to train  _ all  _ waterbenders. Eventually we built a bigger space somewhere else.”

“Yeah, I think Kya mentioned something, it’s right by her place.”

“Yes, that one. And even after it was built, for the most part the arena in the, ah, palace was for public use until you got here. I used to be part of a small group that trained there with Katara.”

“And when I got here you drew the short straw.” You tease.

“I  _ earned  _ this. Not because I’m my father’s daughter either. I earned this.” I repeat myself, trying to reassure myself almost as much as I’m trying to convince you. It’s a sore subject, and you obviously notice.

“I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.” You say immediately, and I manage to relax.

“Sorry.” I mutter.

“No, I get it. And believe me, every bone in my body knows you earned it. Because you’ve pummeled that knowledge into them.”

I laugh.

“You’ll get me again eventually.” I say, and I mean it. You’re getting closer every time. Even with no chibending, you’re getting better at reading me, forcing me to find new ways to keep you away from my pressure points. It’s only a matter of time until you get lucky.

The tribe is not very big, but we still manage to spend quite some time touring it. It’s almost dinnertime by the time we make it home, both of us carrying bags of things you bought because apparently, for someone who is not supposed to have material possessions, you sure have a lot of money.

We go to your room so you can drop everything off. The egg is still there, unchanged. The room is even messier. The device in the corner is getting bigger. There’s some strange contraption by the window.

“Uh,” I begin, but you are rummaging through your bags.

“Here!” You say, handing me something. “I got you this! As a thank you for showing me around.”

I look at the necklace and stop breathing. It’s a deep blue band, with a silver medallion. It’s blank, but it’s meant to be engraved. But you don’t know this, because you have no idea what you’re giving me.

“Tha-that’s a betrothal necklace.” I explain, my face on fire. Your face quickly joins mine in showing a perfect storm of shock and embarrassment, and you quickly put the necklace away.

“Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t know!” You say. “I just thought it would look nice on you.”

I laugh.

“Yeah, I bet you would, huh?” I say, trying to defuse the situation.

“Oh shut up, you jerk. It was an honest mistake.”

I can tell you’re seriously mortified, so I decide to let it go, for now.

“Don’t worry about it, Asami. And you don’t have to get me anything. Today was fun.”

“Right?”

“Yeah.”

We stand there, awkwardly silent.

“I-”

“We-”

We both fall silent again. I sigh.

“Dinner. We should go.” I say. You nod. 

"Right."

This time I get  _ both  _ of my parents to choke on their food as I announce the Avatar has proposed to me. I have not finished the sentence that I’m covered in your food, which you apparently decided to weaponize.

“You little shit!” You all but  _ screech  _ at me from across the table. I just laugh. My father’s food falls from his fork, and I decide maybe I should explain.

* * *

The next day, you manage to block my chi on my arm. I still beat you.

The day after that, you don’t manage to touch me, but I end up more tired than ever before. You’re relentless.

On the third day after your proposal, you defeat me. You sit next to me, out of breath, sweat covering your face.

“Took you long enough.” I say, as Katara approaches to heal me.

“I feel like I need to sleep for two days.” You say. “I would gloat, but I don’t even have the energy for that.”

Katara doesn’t really comment. She hasn’t given me any useful feedback in a while now, and she can hardly comment on your chi blocking.

You are busy with Kya that afternoon, and I find myself wishing you weren’t, so we could go out to celebrate your victory. Against me. It’s very weird, but it feels right.

I defeat you the next two times. Still, after the second one, you are free, and I insist we celebrate your victory, which I call a fluke. Our ensuing trash talk is short lived, and soon enough we’re riding Naga, exploring the lands beyond the tribe.

This time, instead of heading towards the sea, we head inland, towards the mountains. We find a hill overlooking a frozen valley, which Naga chooses as her resting spot.

You examine the landscape, black rock and white ice. The sky is grey today, not pretty, and it’s so cold we’ll have to leave soon, we wouldn’t have left town if we could choose to do so any day.

“I got you something.” You say, reaching into your pocket. “No betrothing implications this time, I checked.” 

You hand me a blue-white bracelet with tribal patterns. It’s simple, but expertly made. I like it.

“This is a funerary bracelet.” I say flatly.

“What.” You say, aghast. It takes you a few seconds to realize I’m messing with you. “You asshole! See if I get you anything again!”

I laugh.

“I did tell you you didn’t have to!” I say, catching my breath. “But thanks, I love it. I’ll, uh, put it on when I don’t have to risk losing a limb to do so.”

“That’s fair.” You say, shoving me, clearly still not over my joke.

“So, how’s everything going? Healing? Chibending?”

“There’s some progress.” You say, hesitant. “I think you helped. I kinda made water glow a bit one time, I think?”

“Oh wow, very impressive.”

You shove me again.

“But seriously,” I say. “It’s something. You’re getting there, right?”

“Right.”

“And what about engineering?” I ask. You look at me as if you can’t believe I’m asking about that. “What? Every time I go to your room it gets worse. I’m afraid you’ll blow my home up someday.”

You shrug.

“Most of it happens on paper. Like I said, I’m happy to just learn. But I did make a theremin. Now I just have to figure out how to use it.” 

“A therewhat?”

“Come by my room later and I’ll show you.”

“Sheesh lady, it’s not like we’re betrothed or anything, you know?”

“Korra?”

“Yes, Asami?”

“I’m gonna beat the crap out of you tomorrow.”

* * *

**  
** The theremin, it turns out, is a musical instrument. An electronic one. That you play without touching. The sounds it makes are weird and creepy, and neither of us has any idea how to make it sound like actual music. You insist it’s perfectly made, I insist you’ve trapped some poor soul in there and we’re torturing it.

It’s two hours of this until I realize we’ve spent way too much time messing around with it. We say our goodnights, and you repeat your threat from earlier.

The next day, you deliver.

Things are going well for me at first. I’m keeping you on your toes, unable to attack, as it’s always the plan.

Then, I send a wall of ice your way and expect you to leap over it as you so often do. Instead, I feel my muscles twitch for a moment, and the wall crumbles to dust.

You stand there, your stance a perfect mirror of mine, an evil smirk on your face.

“Gotcha.” You say. Then you charge.

I send attack after attack at you. You dodge most, but some you neutralize before they reach you, your moves become an eerie reflection of mine, not identical, but some twisted form, and I’m not quite sure what it is I feel, it’s not physical, but it’s there, and when I feel it, my attacks miss, or lose power before they reach you, or simply cease to be.

With this new weapon, it doesn’t take you long to reach me. Your first strike is not to a pressure point, but right in the middle of my throat. Where the medallion would be, the intrusive thought flashes for a moment. I stagger backwards, and the fight is over. I allow myself to fall, arms up in surrender, not wanting to get my whole body chi-blocked. You seem to accept my surrender, because you stop your attack.

“That- was terrifying.” I say. “Wow. That is such an unfair power."

"And that's why non-benders get an Avatar too." You say smugly. "Someone has to teach benders how that feels."

I make a childish face at you, which I quickly hide as I notice Katara approach. You help me up and I try to appreciate the fact that for once I don't need healing after losing to you (though my throat would gladly accept it).

"Very impressive, Asami." Katara says cautiously. I get the feeling you're being tested.

"Thank you, Sifu Katara. But I still have much work to do. I've been fighting Korra exclusively, so I've managed to learn her personal fighting style. Today something finally clicked, but against any other waterbender, I have no doubt I would be completely unable to bend their chi."

Katara nods. You've obviously passed the test.

"Lucky me." I grumble.

"I warned you this day would come, Korra." Katara says. "You've been taking too much advantage of your reach, and she has learned to counter your bending. Now it is you who must learn to fight in close quarters against her, as that will make it harder to bend your chi."

"But close quarters is where the chi blocking happens!" I protest. You actually wink at me.

"Sounds like you're between a rock and a hard place." You say.

"You'll need to adapt." Katara says sternly. "Water is the element of change. You know this in your heart, but you are too quick to fall into the patterns that work for you. This can be useful to master them, but you must know when to let them go, you must know when they do more harm than good. You can't let her touch you, but you must be close to her. It is a challenge. But if it weren't there would be no learning."

"I understand." I say, bowing to her, though I have no idea how I'm going to adapt to this new situation.

"Don't worry, Korra." You say. "I'm sure you'll figure out a way to kick my ass in no time."

I scoff.

"Uh, of course I will. Obviously." I say, and you elbow me.

You have lessons with Kya, and I know this because I've taken to asking you in advance, which probably looks kind of desperate, but I just like knowing ahead of time if you'll be around.

About an hour later, I'm walking to my room when I notice something is wrong. I walk past your bedroom, and notice smoke billowing from under the door.

I kick the door open, and thankfully, your room is not on fire. The egg, however, is smoking, and it has some cracks that weren't there before. 

I rush out, only to rush in again to pick up all the papers you've got lying around within spark distance of the fireplace because seriously, you're a walking fire hazard.

Once I’ve relocated them (I'm sure you'll yell at me for disturbing your precious "system"), I rush out, stopping quickly to ask my mother to go to your room and make sure nothing catches fire.

"But don't touch  _ anything _ ! I'll be right back with her!"

I don't wait to see if she has any idea what I'm talking about. As far as I know, I'm the only one you've told about the egg.

Naga and I reach the healing grotto in record time, and I rush in, ignoring the assistant who asks if I have an appointment. I haven't been here in a while, but I know where Kya usually works, and I know she's probably got you there with her.

I find you, kneeling by a pool of water, hands submerged, your face a mask of pure concentration. Your hands are actually glowing. It's not the brightness I'm used to seeing from healers, but it's there, and it's steady. I hesitate for a moment, loath to disturb you when you seem to be so focused on your work, and successful at that. I recognize the look in your face and I know I'd hate whoever snapped me out of that state.

But then I remember why I'm here and I practically scream.

"Hey, Asami!" I say. The glow fades instantly and you look at me, and yep, there it is, that piercing green glare. "I think the baby's coming!"

"Uh, what." Kya says flatly, and I notice she's in the room too. With a patient, a sick man who's looking at me like I walked in on him naked (when in fact he's only half-baked).

It takes you a moment to realize what I'm saying, but then you jump up and the glare vanishes.

"Gotta go, Kya. See you tomorrow!"

"Wait wha-"

We rush out of the room, not giving her any time to even question us.

"You brought Naga?" You ask as we rush through the grotto's passages.

"Yup."

"My hero."

"I do my best."

"I meant the polar bear-dog."

I might have walked into that one.

It's only when we're halfway home that I remember Kya has delivered like a million babies and that she might actually have some idea of what to do.

It turns out, however, that it's not a problem. You've got it handled.

We rush into the room, where my mother is standing in the middle of your mess, staring at the egg.

"Oh thank the spirits, what is  _ happening _ ?" She asks as we rush to the egg. The fire around it is flaring occasionally, but the smoke seems to have died down.

"Dragon's hatching." We both say in unison.

"I'm sorry,  _ dragon _ ?" My mother asks. "That's a  _ dragon _ ? And it's been here the whole time?"

"Not now, mom!" I say. "What do you need?" I ask you as you examine the egg. You seem relieved.

"Seems like we've got time." You say. ”We should get a large bucket of water, which we can't let get cold. And my electric blanket, I'll set it up. And food. Any meat. Cooked, charred even."

"I'll get the food." Mother says with a steady voice, her panic seemingly gone.

"I'll get the water."

We scramble around the house. Mother ends up bringing far too much food, and I bring two buckets, just in case. We keep them by the fire to keep them warm.

"I wonder if it's the first dragon to be born surrounded by ice." I muse aloud as we watch a crack deepen.

"Might be." You say, and I notice your nervousness has returned. I place a hand on your shoulder.

"We've got this." I tell you. " _ You've  _ got this."

You nod, biting your lip.

"Actually, the dragon needs to do most of the work. I'm just worried about what comes later. I've never had to care for someone else like this before. They're supposed to grow fast and to be very independent, but still...big responsibility. The world isn't exactly teeming with dragons."

"I've noticed."

We stay like that, my hand on your shoulder, our eyes fixed on the egg.

Eventually, the top cracks open and flies against the fireplace, shattering in pieces. We can't see the dragon, but we see the fire spewing out of the egg. 

You bend and reach towards the egg and I hold you back, grabbing your arm.

"It's  _ on fire _ ." I say.

"It's a dragon, what did you expect?" You say. "Besides, I've got a trick up my sleeve."

You gently take my hand in yours and remove it from your arm, then reach for the egg again, your arms going inside. The flames seem to die down as you do.

"There you go." You say. "I got you."

As you pull out the dragon, I notice you're making movements with your hands against its scales. At first I think you're petting him in a strange way, but then I realize: you're bending its chi, preventing it from firebending.

"It won't hurt her." You explain as you notice my eyes on your hands. "I'm just making sure she doesn't burn us, if I feel her push to do it, I'll just face her away and make sure to redirect the fire. Remember, I practiced with firebenders for a long time before coming here. I even practiced with adult dragons."

You don't need to explain, I trust you know what you're doing, though I'm a little surprised at just  _ how much _ I trust you.

The dragon is darker than I expected. She's red, but not like the Fire Lord's dragon, a darker red, with a beautiful black pattern, a black so smooth it's almost reflective.

I watch you care for her, washing her, checking who knows what in her mouth and her claws. Knowing you, you've probably studied for this moment. You probably have a book somewhere in this room.

"She's beautiful." I say, and the smile you give me when you look up from her towards me is so bright that it tugs at my heart, a tug so strong that I have to force myself to put that aside for later because I'll definitely have to address that one way or another, but this is not the time.

We spend hours in there. My father arrives eventually, and finds the three of us sitting on the floor together, the dragon in your arms, wrapped in your blanket.

"Hey, where is every...one." he says as he steps into the room and takes in the picture. My mother gestures at him to be silent. The dragon has devoured everything she brought, and is now napping, your fingers tenderly caressing her neck to keep her from accidentally setting your hair on fire.

"Hey dad." I whisper. "Come meet Fu-ts'ang."

"Who is- what is- how long have I been gone?"

My father says, but he approaches, slowly, gently, and sits in front of you, leaning in to see.

My mother takes his hand on hers, and they both watch in silence as you hand me the dragon.

"Wh-what?" I say, surprised.

"Come on, hold her." You say to me, softly, it feels like you're asking me something so intimate that I feel my face heat up, though that may be the electric blanket, because as I take hold of Fu-ts'ang I realize just how warm it is, and you've been holding this thing the entire time like it's nothing.

The dragon stirs, her claws pulling the blanket in, and a few flames leave her nose when she exhales. I yelp, quietly, but surprised, but you shush me.

"It's okay." You say. "I've got it under control. She won't hurt you."

This dragon is making your voice tender, too tender, and you talking to me in that tone is doing things to me, which once again I need to file away as a problem for future Korra.

"I can't wait for her to meet Naga." I say. You chuckle.

"I'm sure they'll get along famously." You say.

Your right hand is currently dancing gently over the dragon, and I can't help thinking it looks like you're trying to play the theremin very softly. Your left hand adjusts the blanket, and stops over my own hand holding the dragon. And stays there.


	5. Rebel Spirits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl, this isn't the best chapter, it's a bit of a bridge between where their relationship was in chapters 3-4 and where it's going in chapters 6+, so there isn't much development on that front. Next few chapters should be more, ah, emotionally charged though.

**Book One:**

**Water**

**Chapter Five:**

####  **Rebel Spirits**

Taking care of Fu-ts'ang is a full-time job. You bring her to breakfast, and then to training, where you've set up a cot for her, with your electric blanket (you're already making new ones because obviously it's gonna be destroyed soon, and outgrown not long after).

You take her with you to Kya's, and we no longer go out when you're free because we stay in fawning over her.

We introduce her to Naga, who's actually scared at first, but quickly takes a liking to the little red spitfire. This in turn means we start sneaking Naga into your room, and we begin to have "girls' nights" where the four of us stay there until way too late (Katara absolutely notices every time we're lacking sleep, and makes us pay. She wants us to take the hint, but we're too busy having fun).

Meanwhile, our fights keep getting worse for me. Your bending improves every day, and I can't figure out how to get close to you without you turning me into a puddle. 

Fu-ts'ang doesn't really grow much at first, not in size, but she does get more independent. She takes to riding on your shoulder, but can walk by herself.

She's intelligent too, and never wanders away or interrupts during training. Really, the catastrophic fiery incidents are minimal.

The days turn into weeks. The shadows lengthen as the sun edges ever closer to the horizon.

I learn more about you (and, presumably, you learn more about me). You don’t talk much about your past, but I still catch glimpses. You lost your mother when you were young. Your father all but raised you by himself while running a company (I don’t get a name) . You had no idea you were the Avatar until your sixteenth birthday, when some sages burst into your party to announce it (who does that?). There had been signs, but you missed them: weird dreams, recognizing Sokka’s statue as a kid, staring at Air Temple Island for a bit too long. 

All in all, I get the feeling you don’t enjoy sharing about your personal life. There might be something you’re hiding, but mostly I think you just don’t want to dwell on it because it makes you homesick. 

You’re also rather vague about your previous stops in your Avatar journey: did you make friends? “Of course” Do you miss them? “Well, yeah.” Do you regret leaving them? “Not really my choice, was it?”

I don’t push for details. It obviously makes you uncomfortable, and I find I don’t really need them. You’re fun, intelligent, and fierce. Really, you’re kind of terrifying in the best kind of way. That’s all I need to know. However, I can't help but wonder if, one day, someone will ask you about your experiences in the South Pole, and you'll be just as vague about me.

* * *

I still can't beat you in the arena, but I do manage some progress.

I need to get creative, using bending indirectly, to help myself rather than to harm you. It makes it harder for you to neutralise when it's not coming straight at you. 

I also get better at fighting you specifically, at defending against chi-blocking.

One time, I actually manage to catch your fingers in my hand and the panicked look you give me before you manage to pull away tells me you'll be thinking twice before approaching me so carelessly in the future. You let your guard down, and it won't happen again, but that means you'll have to be more alert, more guarded. The busier I can keep that mind of yours, the less I have to worry about what it's planning for me.

We are resting, lying flat on the arena, our heads next to each other. You've won, again, but it's getting closer, the fights are getting longer. It's exhausting.

"Are you going to Kya's tomorrow?" I ask, my eyes closed yet your face somehow still in front of them.

"I am, why?"

"Think you can get away early?"

"That depends, what's in it for me?" 

As far as we're concerned, that's fairly standard teasing, so I must be imagining the way your voice seems to get ever so slightly higher for a moment, as if you were nervous.

"It's the sunset tomorrow. Thought the four of us could go out, find a nice spot to watch it. We’ll probably be spending more and more time indoors during the rest of your stay, so…"

I let the thought fade. Knowing you're leaving, even if it's still months away, is starting to be a problem. Not only that, but now I'll have to miss Fu-ts'ang too.

"Let's do it." You say with your voice so full of certainty that I have to wonder if your thoughts went to the same place, if you're going to miss me as much as I'll miss you.

I sigh, and remind myself: you're the Avatar. This is your life. You've done it before, you'll do it again.

And still I have to wonder.

* * *

Naga and I wait for you outside the grotto. Fu-ts'ang leaps from your shoulder onto Naga's back the moment she sees her (and that wasn't flying but maybe it counts as gliding and we share a look of pride that honestly is kind of ridiculous when you stop to think about it, so I don't).

"Did Kya give you any trouble?" I ask as you get on and wrap your arms around me (which isn't really necessary because I no longer make Naga run wild to mess with you, especially inside the walls, but I don't complain). 

"Pssht. I'm the Avatar, she'll have to deal with it."

"So…"

"I'll have to do extra hours the next few days, yeah."

"Man, you really are a rebel, huh?"

"Don't go pretending you're some bad girl, not-a-princess."

Okay. Maybe you were right to hold on to me this time.

I make Naga run like a demon one more time, for old time's sake.

* * *

We find a good spot, not very different from the hill where you gave me the bracelet (I never take it off), except it's closer to the sea. Before us lies an endless white expanse, which cracks into pieces as the ice sheet leaves the land behind, turning into multiple sheets floating over the water. 

The sun has been dancing around the horizon for a while now, and the mountains close to the Tribe actually means it's practically night there already, but this is when it really happens. No more daylight for six months.

We're standing, Naga sitting by my side, Fu-ts'ang on your shoulder, as we take in the last sunlight we'll get in a long time.

Your fingers intertwine with mine, and my hand closes around yours.

The sun is there one moment, and then it's gone. We both know our hands shouldn't be exposed like this if it's not necessary. But this feels necessary.

It's a thought that hits me hard, it _stabs_ me. Just how necessary your touch is. How strange it is to think for so long, you simply weren't here. And that in what's really a flicker, you'll be gone, just as fast as you've arrived, and I'll be left here without you.

The thought annoys me. Because I don't like needing. I don't like weakness. I don't like feeling like a part of me would be leaving with you.

"I think a part of me will always stay here." You say, and my breath hitches, because I think you must mean here, now, this moment, our hands. I tell myself you mean here the South, here the Tribe. I tell myself you mean here the Sunset, a beautiful, rare occurrence you might never see again (because you’re leaving). But I also scream, scream, that you mean me.

And I hate this thought, because I hate being afraid, and I'm too afraid to ask. The moment passes, and silently, without needing to say anything, we both agree it's time to go home.

It's a quiet ride in the darkness, and my heart feels heavy with the thoughts I keep pushing away for later, for a better time, a time that deep down I know will probably be either never, or too late.

* * *

A few days later, Katara declares you’re ready for some field training, which to be honest worries me because her field trips are definitely _not_ safe for those who can’t waterbend. I know you can take care of yourself (you remind me every morning by defeating me again and again) but the south pole can be treacherous, especially in the darker half of the year, and being able to waterbend yourself out of the water or the cracks in the ice or the avalanche or so many other things can be the difference between life or death. 

But, Katara says you’re ready, and that you need to be more familiar with the element, so I don’t say anything. Then Katara adds that I’ll be coming too, of course, and even though I know for a fact she’s gonna make us suffer I’m glad I’ll be there to fish you out of the water if the ice breaks under your feet.

Two more weeks go by.

The field trips are short at first. Naga and Fu-ts’ang come along, but we don’t mount Naga, since it defeats the purpose of the trip.

It’s as much about the body as it is about water. It’s about understanding ourselves as part of the whole, as drops in the one large body of water that is all life. I’ve gone through this before. I’m not exactly one for philosophy, but I admit that Katara has drilled this understanding into my bones, often by leaving me alone to fend for myself for days or weeks at a time. 

Sometimes, Katara has us spar in the middle of nowhere. I’m more used to the landscape, I have more training using it to my advantage, but you’ve clearly had general training in that area and are quick to adapt to our frozen corner of the world. Still, these battles outside the arena clearly give me an edge, one that I’m glad to exploit.

I actually manage to beat you a few times, even in the arena, though I'm not sure if it's me, or if you're just having bad days. I take the wins either way. I defeat you by being aggressive, not just with my bending, but with my body. I defeat you by knowing you so well I can be two steps ahead of you. I defeat you by not letting you do the same, by teaching myself to improvise beyond what I thought was possible. I'm pretty sure I actually accidentally invent a few bending techniques just to keep you guessing.

You in turn learn your own flavor of unpredictability, though only having your own body to work with limits you in that respect. It's not your strong suit, and it shows. Your bending improves too, to the point where anything that's not needlessly complex becomes moot against you, because it takes more effort for me to do it than for you to neutralise it.

One time, in frustration, I throw a huge wave of water at you, an attack that is pure brute force.

You bend, and that familiar, uneasy feeling takes me, like ants crawling inside me. But this time the attack doesn't just miss or stop. No, I feel it, feel the energy inside me reverse, and watch in horror as the water comes right back at me, as if I was pulling it. I try to bend it away, but the more effort I put into it the faster it comes to me, because you're bending _me_ , not it. In the end, I have to dodge my own attack.

I do not win that time.

* * *

We are ice fishing. Patience is a big part of fishing, and anyone who knows me knows I’m not the most patient person around. You certainly know by now. Katara is inside our ice shelter, resting. So are Naga and Fu-ts’ang. But here we are, fishing, because we haven’t met our quota, and we know Katara will count the fish when she wakes. Even the stars look cold. 

“Stop that.” You say. There’s no moon tonight. We've got a small campfire set up next to us, but it's on its way out, and I can barely see your outline.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re trying to will the fish to bite with your mind. It’s loud.”

“First of all, I didn’t know you could read minds.” You’re right though. “And second, how can it be loud? It’s silent.”

“I can feel it. You’re a loud thinker.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“No, you’re ridiculous.”

“You’re scaring the fish.”

“No, _You’re_ scaring the fish.”

We laugh and yeah, we’re probably not gonna be getting much fishing done tonight. You seem to care as little as I do, and I find that reassuring.

“So, how’s the tinkering going?” I ask.

“Pretty well, actually. Remember how I’ve been thinking on how to integrate technology with my abilities?”

“I remember.” You rambled about it for quite a while.

“Well, a long time ago I had this idea for an electrified glove. I left those designs when I left Republic City, weapons were never really my thing, but I was thinking I could adapt that idea into something I could use to make my lightning attacks a bit less, ah, lethal.”

“You mean so you don’t kill defenseless waterbenders who were just there for a friendly fight?”

“Ha! I’d hardly call you defenseless.”

“I’m a delicate flower.”

“Please. You're-"

But I never get to find out what I am, because you suddenly fall silent. Throwing knives appears in your right hand, and I know you must have had them under your sleeve but I swear they materialised right there before my eyes, didn't even know you had those? Have you had them this entire time?

I wonder all of this in a fraction of a second, which you use to roll into a combat stance as you throw the knives into the darkness.

I don't have time to wonder what's going on, I follow your lead as best I can, preparing to face whatever is out there.

I'm not done standing that something hits me in my chest, something strong. I fly backwards and manage to roll with the hit, just in time to see you attack whatever just hit me.

It's not human, but it's not any animal I've ever seen either. It's vaguely humanoid, but seems to be made of translucent darkness, if that even makes sense. It has a faint shimmering aura, and markings on its face (or rather, where its face would be) that glow with red light, light that doesn't seem to actually illuminate but rather just deepen the darkness around it.

Your foot hits it right across the would-be face, and you gracefully engage it in combat. It's my first time getting to see you fight against someone else, and if it weren't for the actual danger, I'd gladly just sit back and admire you. 

The creature clearly feels your blows, but isn't too bothered by them, and it definitely isn't being affected by your chi blocking. I wait for my chance to attack (that's definitely something I've learned fighting you, not to rush in), and as soon as I see it, I take it, cracking the ice beneath the creature's feet and, once it falls on the water, freezing it.

You step back, not letting your guard down, your eyes fixed on the floating block of ice that emerges from the hole I just created, the darkness visible within it.

"I think that's a spirit." You say.

"Why would it attack us? Aren't you supposed to be friends with spirits?" 

"More of a mediator. And I've told you before, it's not exactly the Avatar role I'm best known for."

"I had to get the wrong kind of nerd." I complain, my stance ready to freeze the creature again at any sign of trouble. "Do you think it can break out? It was pretty strong, and the whole liquid-to-solid thing isn't my specialty."

"I don't know. Let's-"

The ice shatters in a million pieces and the spirit, if that's what it is, leaps upwards, high above us. I make the water follow him, and manage to grab an arm and a leg in tendrils, and you hit it with even _more_ knives (seriously, where are those coming from?). 

I pull it down, and it hits the ice hard, close to you. It's at this moment that I hear a bark and I know Naga is awake, and if she's awake-

The thought doesn't finish taking form in my mind that the air around the spirit begins to glisten with ice crystals, which attack it like needles. They don't do much, but they keep coming, faster and faster, like a targeted blizzard out to get it, creating a thick layer around it.

I turn to see Katara, her movements slow but certain, graceful. We step away from the spirit as it attempts to stand while the air itself fights it, freezing, creating a thick layer of ice. I bend water out of the hole I made, a huge pillar that I bend towards the spirit. I feel as Katara's strength joins mine, the water rushing with more power. We create a sphere around it, bigger and bigger, and solidify it all the way through. The ice is so thick we can't even see the creature inside.

"Well done." Katara says simply, as she walks around the sphere, examine it with concerned eyes. "This is... troubling."

"Why would it attack us?" I ask. Katara turns to you, clearly expecting an answer, and the fact that even _she_ doesn't know scares me.

"I have no idea." You say. "But something felt wrong about it. I don't have much experience with spirits but they're definitely less...feral. They might not all be good, exactly, but they don't just appear in the physical world to attack. This one seems almost...mindless."

"Hopefully this turns out to be an isolated incident." Katara says. "If it doesn't, we might need aid from the North dealing with this."

"What should we do?" I ask.

"For now? Leave. It will find its way out eventually, but there's not much we can do about it. Hopefully it will return to its own world."

With this, Katara heads back to the shelter, which she bends into nothing, revealing our backpacks and Fu-ts'ang, who's crawled against them, half protective, half scared.

You stay still, staring at the sphere.

"I have no idea why or how it's here." You say. "And I had no idea how to defeat it or pacify it. Some Avatar I am."

"Hey, you're a great Avatar." I say automatically as I approach you, placing my hand on your shoulder. "You'll figure this out. That's what you do. You don't have all the solutions, but you work the problems."

"I don't even know where to start with this one."

"We'll think of something." I say. And even in the dark I'm pretty sure the look you're giving me means that we both know perfectly well that I'm the one person who's as bad at spiritual stuff than you, but that you appreciate the 'we' anyway.

We travel quite a distance before stopping to rest. The fish are forgotten, and not even Katara brings them up the next morning.


	6. A Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I basically just uploaded two chapters back to back, so make sure you didn't miss the previous one. 
> 
> I just didn't want to risk people being left with that chapter as the last thing that happened, because it's not my favorite, lol.

**Book One:**

**Water**

**Chapter Six:**

####  **A Revelation**

****  
  


You’re playing Pai Sho against my father. I’m observing. I’m meant to be paying attention, learning the game. Because it can teach me strategy, patience, even philosophy. Because many important meetings take place over a game of Pai Sho, as it is a pastime that’s been adopted the world over by the kind of people who hold those meetings. Because it is an important element of world culture and I would do well to respect it. Mostly, however, I’m supposed to be learning it because you want to play against me.

Not that you need yet another way to kick my ass. After the whole Spirit Incident, I asked you about those throwing knives. Part of your training in the Fire Nation, you said. Before learning Chi Blocking from the Kyoshi Warriors in the Earth Kingdom, you were taught some martial arts basics there, and your teacher instilled in you the necessity to always have a bunch of those knives under your sleeves. You don’t tell me how many. You do, however, remind me that you  _ had  _ warned me you might have more tricks under your sleeve (I groaned). I asked you why you hadn’t used them in training, and you pointed out you didn’t want another Lightning Incident (my life didn’t use to have so many Incidents). After that, of course, I insist that you begin using them in practice. It does not help my odds.

You have restless hands and we spend enough time together that they get anxious if they’re not doing something in the meantime. Usually this means tinkering, brushing your hair, taking care of Fu-ts’ang. But your hands have been craving for more variety. Or maybe we’re spending more time together, and they get bored easily.

So you play Pai Sho with my father. And I observe. But I don’t learn much. Well, not about Pai Sho anyway.

I learn the difference between your “I’m losing” lip-bite and your “I don't want them to realize I'm about to win” lip-bite. I learn if you rest your head on your hand, middle finger against your lips, index finger running up your face to touch the corner of your eye, it means it’s going to be a while until you make your next move. I learn rubbing your temple is not a sign of a headache and I should not ask if you’re okay because I’ll distract you and you’ll snap at me. I learn you don’t like snapping at me, and will be extra nice later. I learn to resist doing it again on purpose.

But no, I do not learn Pai Sho. 

It’s been a little over a month since the Spirit Incident. Your chibending gets much better, but that doesn’t affect our fights that much, since you already had learned so much about my bending. The knives take some time to adjust to, but eventually I manage. I get the feeling you don’t like using them anyway, and after a brief period they vanish from the fights almost completely (though that makes their rare appearances all the more effective). 

Meanwhile, you’ve completed the electrified glove you’d talked about. You can charge it with your bending, and then it can be used to release several smaller shocks, which are much less harmful. You know better than to even bring up the glove with Katara, though.

I’ve taken to going with you to healing practice with Kya. I’ve already learned some, but I’m rusty, and it’s not something I ever excelled at. My mind flashes back to the penguin otter we healed, and I wonder how much more we could have helped if I had been a bit more disciplined and had kept up with exercises.

At first I’m just there to kill time and play with Fu-ts’ang while you practice, but after you insist on my behalf, Kya agrees to let me in on the lessons, even though it’s a “waste of her time and effort” and I “won’t use it anyway”. The only condition is that I don’t distract you, which you’d think is easy enough to do, except Kya repeatedly mentions that your performance has been lacking since I started practicing next to you. For some reason. Kya is annoyed by this, but also seems to find it hilarious, especially when you get defensive about it and insist that you’re just that bad at healing.

I get the feeling that the two of you are not telling me something, and I don’t like it. I don’t ask, though.

I do think about it, though. I’m thinking about it right now, instead of paying attention to the Pai Sho game. I already know what your next move will be anyway, not because I understand anything about the strategy of the game, but because I know that when you’re being cornered like this you like to try and catch your opponent unaware with an unexpected move, and there’s only one such move like that available to you right now that isn’t suicide (when I learned enough to know that, I have no idea).

My mother walks in. I recognize her footsteps, but none of us look up from the game, the two of you too focused on it, me too focused acting like I was paying attention to it.

“I’ve got news.” My mother says, and my father lets out a hum letting her know he’s listening, before thinking better of it and finally tearing his eyes off the board to look at her.

"What news?” he asks casually, as if he didn’t all but ignore her a second before.

“Tenzin and his family will be visiting the Tribe soon. They wrote to Katara and Kya, and they’ve asked me if we’ll have rooms for them even though they’re not in any official diplomatic mission.”

My father thinks about it for a moment, before nodding.

“Of course. Uh, we do have the rooms, right?” he asks. My mother nods. They discuss the logistics of it a bit, but I’m more focused on your reaction. You’re no longer thinking of the game. You seem nervous.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m just wondering why Tenzin would come here. Is it only a social visit?” She addresses the question to my mother. 

“I don’t know.” My mother says, but from her tone I can tell she doubts it. “It’s rare, though they come from time to time, so the children can spend time with their grandmother and aunt.” My mother seems to consider leaving it at that, before catching your eyes and realizing you’ve caught on to her doubt. She sighs. “But last I heard Pema was pregnant, so I’m surprised they’re making the trip now. You’d think they’d wait until later.”

“You think it’s about the spirit?” I ask you. You hesitate.

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s about me.” You say. “I mean, not that everything is about me, but I  _ am  _ the Avatar.” You joke, trying to make light of the situation.

“My brother didn’t seem too concerned about the spirit.” My father said and since when does he even casually mention my uncle like that? That’s a first. “What?” He says, noticing my surprise. “He might not be my favorite person, but he knows his spirits, and I know better than to put my personal issues before the safety of the tribe. He seems to think it was only a rogue spirit, and that we shouldn’t worry too much.”

You hum, a Pai Sho tile dancing between your fingers, but you don’t seem surprised. I get the feeling that you and my father have talked about this before.

“Why would he come here for you?” I ask. Have you been hiding something from me? It's certainly within your rights to do so, but it still stings.

“I don’t know.” You say, and you do sound sincere. “Maybe there’s been some change of plans. He was supposed to be my next teacher. From what I hear Republic City is not doing very well lately, lots of tension between benders and non-benders. And I  _ am  _ the Avatar, and a Fifth Avatar at that, maybe I should be there-”

“You’ve been thinking about this.” I say immediately, my voice almost accusing. You never brought it up before, you’ve never even mentioned the situation in Republic City (otherwise I wouldn’t know next to nothing about it, because I always listen to you, no matter how boring you get), but it’s obvious. 

“I have to, don’t I? It’s my job.” You say defensively. There’s nothing wrong about it, and we both know it, yet it feels like we’re fighting, and deep down I know why, but I don’t want to say it. “If there is need for the Avatar there-”

“You’re still in training!” I say, even though I can tell what your next argument will be. “The world can wait a few years for you to be ready.”

“You do know Aang-”

“I don’t care about Aang!” I stand up as I say it, and only then remember my parents are there with us. I take a deep breath. “I just don’t see why you’re in such a rush to risk your life.” I say, managing to actually sound calm.

“Risk my life? Korra, I’m talking about a diplomatic mission. Going there to mediate, use my position to get both sides talking.”

“...Oh.” I say dumbly, and I feel my shoulders relax just in time for my mother to place a placating hand in one of them.

“What did you think, that I was going to walk in there throwing lightning at everything that moves until they stopped fighting?”

“Worked with me.” I say sheepishly, and at least I manage a bit of a smile from you.

“Korra.” You say, and did you always say my name so softly? “Being the Avatar isn’t just about fighting. But I  _ am  _ the Avatar. It’s a big job. And it might mean sometimes I have to do things I don’t want to. Like…” You look like you’re about to say something before thinking better of it. “Like postponing my training here for a while.”

“Perhaps we should wait and see what Tenzin has to say first?” My father says. “It might be that the news we’re getting about these ‘equalists’ are overblown, or that the whole situation is already under control.”

“You’re right.” You say, with a smile that doesn’t really convince me. “I’m sorry, it’s just...Republic City is my home.”

I get it. You’ve been away for a long time, and things are getting worse. You’re homesick, and worried, and feel responsible, and who knows what else. I understand. It’s perfectly reasonable. And yet, all I can hear, the only thought that manages to take any sort of coherent shape in my mind, is that you want to leave.

It should not bother me this much.

It should not taste of betrayal. 

This isn’t about me. Has nothing to do with me. And that’s the problem. I’m not a part of your equation, and with your home and your destiny at stake, that should not hurt this much.

But it does.

I leave the room. I manage to come up with some stupid excuse -walking Naga, or practicing some move, or something like that- but I know it’s obvious to everyone there that I’m not okay. It’s something I’ll have to deal with later. Right now, I have to be away.

I wander for a while, alone. I’m no longer used to being alone. It feels strange, like my mind has no way to stop spiraling inwards, like I might get caught in my own storm. I remember when I was younger and any tantrum would cause some accidental waterbending, and realize this might be the first time in years that I have to look out for that. I hate that. Feeling like a child, like I can't even keep my own emotions in check.

I keep walking, even though I know by the time I get back my absence will have been obvious.

My feet take me to Katara’s place. Kya has been living here for months too, ever since she arrived from her travels in preparation to teach you, but to me this is Katara’s place.

I’d hardly call Katara a friend. I like her, and I’m pretty sure she likes me, but before you came along we were always worlds apart, our love for the art the only real bond we shared.

But now I can’t help but feel like she’s the only one who might be able to understand the thoughts swarming me. The thoughts that I have been pushing away for so long, for later consideration, because they are unfortunate thoughts, thoughts that can only end poorly.

Because even if everything wrong with Republic City was magically fixed overnight, the day would still come when you’d have to leave. Because you have a job that must always be your first priority. Because you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, and how can I expect you to ignore that?

I stand at Katara’s door for a while. I don’t knock. People probably notice me, standing there, staring at the door like I’m trying to burn a hole through it with my mind. I don’t care. The cold is starting to get me, I didn’t exactly take time to put on outside clothes before leaving (and those make all the difference down here). I don’t care. My knees start to annoy me, troubled at the inactivity. I don’t care.

“You waiting for something, kid?” 

I jump, startled, at Kya’s voice right behind me. I spin around and find her looking at me with a curious expression, a basket full of groceries under her arm.

“Uh, nothing. Sorry, I was just leaving.” I say, but as I begin to walk she takes hold of my arm.

“Come in.” 

It’s a command. The tone reminds me of the one her mother uses sometimes. I don’t dare argue.

She opens the door and I walk in after her. She leads me to the kitchen, where she drops off her groceries, silent. Then, she sits against the counter, crosses her arms, and looks at me expectantly.

“So?” she says after a few seconds. “What’s wrong?"

“Nothing! Nothing’s wrong!” I wave my arms frantically and look around, afraid someone might hear.

“Mom’s not here yet, she’s visiting a friend.” She says. “No one to save you.” She adds with a smirk. I sigh.

“I heard your brother’s visiting?” I try. It’s all I can say. She raises an eyebrow.

“And that’s a problem because…” She tries, gesturing with her hand for me to continue.

“It’s not. It might not be. I don’t know! Why  _ is  _ he visiting?”

“Because we’re his family and we love each other, despite how annoying he can be? Why do  _ you  _ care?”

“But, well, the timing is...weird.”

“What, because of Pema?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that.” I say quickly, before gaining some courage. “And, you know, that stuff in the city.”

“Uh…” Kya says and I remember she might be the one person in the whole South Pole who’s less informed about world affairs than me.

“There’s been some disturbances there? Some non-bender protests or something like that, I don’t know.”

“Oh, that, yeah, I knew about that.” Kya lies, shamelessly. “Well, if he’s coming over then I guess it’s not so bad they can’t spare him for some time, huh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I guess I worried over noth-”

“Nice try, kid.”

I sigh. 

“Asami is worried she might have to intervene.”

“Makes sense, what with her being the Avatar, and a-”

“Fifth Avatar, I know.” I say. I  _ know  _ it makes sense. I don’t need people to explain it to me. 

“She’d probably be really helpful defusing any situation between benders and non-benders. And it might do some good, too. Not just for the city, but for the world.”

“I said,  _ I know _ .” The words sound so angry, even I’m surprised. Kya raises her eyebrow at me again, a gesture that’s starting to get on my nerves.

“So what’s the problem?”

“She’s in training. She shouldn’t be doing Avatar stuff yet. She shouldn’t be responsible for the fate of a city just because people far more experienced than her can’t play nice.”

“You do know my dad-”

“For the love of- YES, I know about your dad! Just because he ended a war when he was a child doesn’t mean that was okay!”

“This is really bothering you, huh?” Kya says, like it’s some big revelation.

“What gave you that idea?” I huff.

“Have you told her?” 

“We’ve basically had this same conversation.”

“No. I mean,  _ have you told her _ ?”

I swear my heart stops for just a moment. There’s really no room for interpretation. I know exactly what she’s asking, and she knows that I know. There’s no hiding anymore, not from her, and not from myself.

“I...no, I haven’t.”

“Maybe you should.” It’s a challenge.

“It’s not that simple.” The words find their way to my mouth automatically, like it’s a conversation I’ve had before, like it’s been going on in my mind for a while, even if I could never really hear it.

“Isn’t it?” The question is soft, softer than I’ve ever heard Kya speak, and I’ve heard her speak to sick patients, even children.

“She’s  _ the Avatar _ . She  _ has  _ to leave. She’s done it before. She has things to do. Her world is much, much bigger than mine, but it’s so full already that I don’t think-” 

I hear Kya stand and walk towards me, and only then I notice my hands are covering my eyes, partly in frustration, partly to hide tears that are not yet there, but that I can feel I might not be able to hold back.

“I don’t think she has room in it for me.” I manage to finish, the words coming out as a stuttering, almost sobbing mess, just as Kya wraps her arms around me and pulls me into a hug, a hand gently patting my head. It’s only then that I realize how unusually transparent my body is being, how exposed I am. A part of me hates it, but the part in control (if it can be called control) leans into Kya, taking the hug.


End file.
